


Six Ravens

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Action based crime, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Modern Royalty, Outing, Pining, Politics, Prince Phil, Sexual Tension, Sexuality, Slow Burn, Smut, Some Action, Strangers to Friends, this a wip and Im not sure what will be included
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:11:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 135,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: Dan meets Prince Philip at a cyberbullying campaign, but what starts as a working relationship grows complicated when Dan realizes he’s falling for the prince and maybe, just maybe, he’s not alone in his feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if you haven't yet, come chat with me on tumblr or twitter @iihappydaysii. 
> 
> updates on tuesdays and thursdays

The only way Dan could keep himself doing these exercises everyday was if he kept it novel. Power yoga was about as novel as it got, but, of all the things he’d tried, this was unexpectedly kicking his ass more than the others. 

He’d gone through a myriad of different workout routines. He’d tried to find gyms and hire trainers. At the end of the day, the only thing he could stick to was something unusual he could find to do at home for an hour on an exercise mat. Being pro-sitting on your ass all day had been an important part of his public branding. It had been a blow to his ego to realize it actually did have a profound impact on his mental health.

But if anyone saw what he looked like attempting to do power yoga… well, he’d lose all his dark, edgy cred, if he even had any left at this point.

In the middle of moving from one undignified pose to another, Dan’s cell phone buzzed on the marble top of his side table. He snatched up the phone and answered the call with a ragged breath.

“Hey Emily, can I call you back?”

“You can,” his manager replied. “But I think you’ll want to hear this.”

Dan wobbled on his aching calves and knocked into the bookshelf beside him. A stuffed pikachu fell to the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up. “Hear what?”

“You know that cyberbullying thing you’re doing next weekend?” she asked.

Of course he knew. Dan had been up nights working on it for over a month now. He probably didn’t have to work on it that much, but Dan had never met a challenge he didn’t procrastinate on and then obsess over way too much.

“Stop, Speak, Support? Yeah, why?” His head was spinning and he tripped over his own feet trying to sit on the sofa. “Ow, fuck.”

“What the hell is happening over there?” Emily asked.

“Fucking power yoga,” Dan grumbled.

“What?”

Dan switched his phone to his other hand. “Nothing. It’s.. it doesn’t matter. What about it?”

“Guess who’s going to be there?” Emily asked.

“I don’t know.”

She paused, like she was trying to be dramatic. “The Prince.”

Dan sat up, his face scrunched. “I’m sorry. _What?”_

“The Prince is coming,” she repeated.

Dan went silent. Emily couldn’t possibly be serious. He didn’t know what he was going to fucking do if she was serious. She couldn’t mean Prince Philip, could she? But, anymore, it was the only thing she could actually mean.

“Dan, are you okay?” Emily prompted.

“Yup. I’m chill.” Dan forced through his tight throat.

“You’re _chill_?” Emily sounded skeptical, and Dan didn’t blame her.

Even though she couldn’t see it, he forced a smile on his face, hoping it would come through in his voice. “The chillest.”

“Uh… well, you’re freaking me out a little so I’m going to let you go, but you know, just like _Prince Philip._ Remember when you said you—“

“That was _one_ time, Emily. One _lonely_ time.” Dan felt blood warm his cheeks as he put a hand on his forehead. He’d been wine drunk when he admitted that to her, but not drunk enough to admit it had definitely been more than one time.

She laughed. “Whatever, Howell. Go back to your power walking.”

“Power yog—you know what never mind.” He sighed.

She laughed again. “Bye, Dan.”

Dan leaned his head back against the couch. Emily couldn’t be serious. This was _Prince Philip._ His whole fanbase knew he’d had a crush on the guy, though it was something that had kind of faded with time, as these things do. It was a running joke—as much a part of his old branding as placenta and Delia Smith. It had been a particularly silly crush. He’d always known it, but he’d also let himself indulge it more than he should have back when he was just trying to pull himself up and out of the grey. A silly little lifeline until he could get his shit together. After Prince Martyn passed last year, it definitely wasn’t something he could or would want to bring up anymore anyway.

So Dan had gotten his shit together and cast off the dusty cobwebs of his old branding just to find himself being confronted by it now. Live and in the flesh. But maybe there was a chance that it could be a good thing, coming full circle, all the way back to Prince Philip.

 

Dan spent the next week trying not to think about meeting Prince Philip and trying not to be particular about what he wore. He failed miserably on both counts. He’d ended up with all his clothes in a giant pile on his bed when Louise buzzed the door. She’d come bearing a paper sack full of take out though, so it wasn’t like Dan was complaining.

Louise was about seven months pregnant, and Dan had no idea how she was even standing upright. She must have had far better core strength than he did.

“What’d you get?” he asked, letting her into his flat.

The shrug of her shoulders bounced her blonde curls.“Indian food.”

“I love you,” Dan said, then added, “I need you to help me with something.”

Her face scrunched up. “What?”

“Just come with me”

Dan led Louise up to his room and, within minutes, he was modeling clothes for her while she sat eating curry on his desk chair—the one that ‘ironically’ looked like an attractively sculpted male butt.

Dan tugged on the hem of the jumper he’d just thrown on. “What do you think?”

Louise shook her head. “You can’t wear that.”

“Why?”

“It’s too ironic.”

“How?” Dan looked down at himself.

“It says End on it. End of what. It’s distracting.”

“End of my dignity.” Dan groaned. “It doesn’t matter what I wear. I’m going to get _so_ mocked. How long has it been and people still haven’t let ‘hey buddy you in London’ go and this isn’t Nick, who I maybe made one comment about. This is _Prince Philip.”_

_“_ Yeah,” Louise snorted. “You did pretend to make out with his picture a few times.”

Dan’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he knows, do you?”

“Do I think the actual future king of England watches your YouTube channel?”

“Oh God.” Dan flopped back on his bed and groaned. “How do I pick clothes to wear to meet a _future king_?”

“Just wear something that makes you feel good about yourself—or pink, you look great in pink.”

“Louise.” Dan rolled over on the bed and directly face-planted into his black-and-white striped jumper. It was soft and warm and one of his favorites. “What about this?” he asked.

“Ooh, I like that jumper. It shows off your frame.”

“You think?” He held it up to his chest. “What does it say about me?”

“It says ‘I’d blow the prince if he asked, but I wouldn’t swallow. I still have my pride’.”

Dan sat up. “Ha Ha. Fuck off.”

“Would you?” Louise asked.

“Would I what?”

“Blow Prince Philip.”

“Jesus, Louise.”

She took another bite. “Well would you?”

Dan opened his mouth but didn’t manage any words. How could he possibly respond to that?

“That hesitation speaks volumes.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

“I’m… unavailable.”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “You’re not… you’re not still weird about Prince Philip are you?”

A lot of people were weird about Prince Philip. No one really bothered with him when he was second in line to the throne and he was only even that until Prince Martyn eventually had children. But now that he was the heir apparent, everyone had opinions and most of them weren’t great.

“I’m not weird. It’s just like… does he have opinions? Like I’ve never heard him voice one.”

“He’s royalty. He’s not suppose to express opinions.”

Louise sighed. “I don’t know. He’s just… he’s awkward and skittish. I mean, I know you have a massive hard-on for the guy—“

“I do not.”

“Fine. You _used_ to have a massive hard on for the guy, and I’m sure he’s nice, but he’s just… he’s like… I’m not sure what’s there and what isn’t. He’s not…”

_Martyn._ Dan knew that’s what she was going to say. It was what everyone said.

“He’s private and reserved, Louise. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He almost brought up Phil’s creative and weird videos that had leaked during his uni years, but what good would that do? “Whatever,” Dan said. “All I have to do is pose for a picture or two. Make some small talk and that’s it. I’ll never see the guy again.”

“Right.” Louise stretched out the word. “Well, definitely wear the striped sweater.”

She hung out for awhile after that, but eventually, she had to get home, which left Dan alone in the flat with thoughts of the upcoming weekend, about Prince Philip, swirling in his head. Dan would never admit to it out loud, to _anyone_ , but he let himself imagine a few scenarios in his head as he paced around his bedroom and into the hall.

He let himself imagine how cool and collected he’d be when he met Prince Philip. How he’d come up to him and just be so magnetic or whatever that Prince Philip would have to talk to him again. He would be like “who’s that guy? He’s so intelligent and mysterious and maybe a little hot—”

_Oh my God. No._ Dan had to stop this line of thinking right there. It was silly and much too like the kind of ridiculous thinking that he’d had years ago. When sometimes he was lonely at night and he’d imagine the bed was full instead of half empty. He’d imagine Prince Philip, there beside him, helping him through his shit, reminding him to eat or exercise or even wank one out. Reminding him to exist. Eventually, Dan didn’t need his fucking weird-ass imaginary friend, but there was a time when he had. When he’d watched his trippy, leaked uni videos or listened to his few and far between speeches and felt _something_.

When you normally felt nothing, something was everything.

Dan yanked the headphones out of his ears and tossed his phone onto the bed. He could still hear Frank Ocean’s voice pumping out of the small speakers. In less than forty eight hours, he’d be meeting Prince Philip—-the future king of England—and he had to do it with a clear head. Not a head filled with a five-year old crush.


	2. Chapter 2

Dan wore the striped sweater Louise had suggested, and a nice pair of black trousers. They were maybe a little too short, but he liked them that way, liked when he could show off some of his ankles. He wished he could put product in his hair like people in the comments kept telling him to do, but he’d never actually gotten around to buying any. He’d brushed his teeth and sprayed on his deodorant. He was ready—at least physically—to meet Prince Philip. Mentally, he was doing his level best not to think about it at all.

Dan grabbed his phone off his nightstand and checked the time. He’d need to head out to the underground in the next few minutes. He could feel his heart pounding, so he took a deep breath to calm down. He was going to be just fine, he reminded himself. He’d met plenty of people he’d admired before. There was Jennifer Lawrence and though that could have gone better, Patrick and Pete had been nice to him, and Nick Jonas had some-fucking-how become his closest friend. He was fine. He had this one hundred percent under control.

The air was nippy on the walk to the train so Dan was happy, despite it being cramped, to be in the heat of the train. He slumped down in the first free seat he could find, then tucked into his phone. He was scrolling through tumblr and minding his own business when he got a text from Louise that consisted entirely of aubergines and droplets of water. He sighed and slipped his phone back in his pocket.

Okay. Maybe it was more like ninety-eight percent under control.

Dan turned his attention to the grey concrete and the brightly colored signage occasionally passing by. The monotony of it made Dan’s mind wander on the periphery of imagined scenarios. Of what it would be like in a few hours when he was standing in front of Prince Philip, when he was having a photo op and taking a few moments to discuss cyberbullying like it was something the man could give two shits about. However, it didn’t matter what he imagined. He’d be facing the reality of it soon enough.

When they arrived at the Google building where the event was held, Dan was greeted by the coordinators, and an inexplicable design concept somewhere between drug trip from the 1980s and Alice in Wonderland. In unnecessarily hushed voices, the coordinators told them that at some point the prince would be there, but they couldn’t tell them when or for how long or what they were actually going to do or talk about.

Super specific. Super helpful for Dan’s rising nerves.

With all that in his head, Dan tried and probably came up short in his attempts to make small talk with the other invitees until his manager Emily showed up. Then, he mostly just talked to her. Other managers might have been put-off by the way Dan would shy away from networking, but Emily wasn’t most managers. She wasn’t pushing him to constantly do more and be more. If anything, she seemed to see it as her mission to ground him, to keep him productive and successful but, above all, safe from the traps that often plagued people in his position.

Dan was able to push down his anxiety, at least, when he got on stage to give the speech he’d been preparing. Public speaking was easier to him than one-on-one mingling. He actually kind of liked it. But then, pretty much the worst thing that could have happened to Dan while he was on stage, happened.

A line of security entered the area, a few guards walked to each side of the room. Dan’s heart began to pound so hard he could hear it in his ears. He started tapping his foot to work out some of the nervous energy and quiet the _Prince Philip_ voice in his head that sounded a lot like himself from five years ago.

The room went silent and Dan looked ahead to see Prince Philip walk through the open doors at the back. Everyone stood up. Dan couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for everyone to simply rise, like a natural instinct, when you entered a room.

Prince Philip seemed taller in person, even from a distance. He was long and lanky, in a lovely way. His black hair was pushed back, the fringe of his youth gone. He looked regal, yet somehow approachable. Like a future king and an old friend at the same time. Dan didn’t understand the wariness other people seemed to feel in regards to Prince Philip. He didn’t understand it at all.

When the prince was lead to a seat in the audience, he was wearing a shy smile on his face, and it warmed something between Dan’s ribs. The new angle gave Dan a better view of what he was wearing—a well-tailored blue suit, a crisp white shirt, a thin brown necktie and—Dan was pretty sure—a pair of strangely patterned socks that were only visible a little between the bottom of his trousers and the tops of his shoes.

It seemed Prince Philip had only gotten more handsome with age. It seemed he only looked better in person.

Dan bit his lip. _Pull yourself together, mate. You still have a speech to give._

All Dan had to do right now was stand here, recite the speech he’d practiced a hundred times and hope nothing on his face read ‘I used to wank thinking about you’.

With a deep breath, Dan let his instinct and practice take over and he delivered the best speech he could under the circumstance. Then, he got off the stage and sat in his chair next to Emily, hoping he didn’t make a total idiot out of himself.

Like she could read his mind, and for as long as they’d been working together, she probably could, Emily leaned over and said, “Don’t worry, Dan. You did just fine.”

A few of the other invitees spoke, but Dan found it really hard to watch them and not the weirdly mesmerizing back of Prince Philip’s head.

Prince Philip stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat, “Hello, everyone. I hope you are all having a good day. I want to thank you all for being here and supporting this cause that’s very dear to my heart.”

 _Dear to his heart?_ Dan sat forward a little. Was it really? Dan hadn’t known this was anything but one of many public service events members of the royal family would support. Unlike Prince Martyn, Prince Philip wasn’t known for participating in these kinds of events. He’d always stayed in the background, mysteriously flitting around the periphery, until tragedy had shoved him center-stage.

“Not many people know this, but I actually spent a lot of time online growing up. It was an escape from reality for me, a way to make connections and friends without leading with my title. It made my parents a little nervous, as you could understand”—that got a little laugh—“but ultimately they felt the internet was doing more good than harm, and I agreed. I still do… despite… despite what I’ve seen.” There was something stiff in Prince Philip’s voice. Something being held back, maybe. “So, that’s why you’re all here, and that’s why this program is so important to me, because not only do we need to work to make the internet a safer place, we need to teach people the skills to support those who are hurting and how to reach out for support when we’re the ones who are hurting. Thank you all for coming, and for everything that you do. It means a great deal to me.” Prince Philip stepped away from the microphone and down the steps of the stage.

Dan’s gaze followed him as he walked, and Dan could have sworn Prince Philip looked towards him, saw him, and gave him the barest hint of a smile. But it had to be in his head, right?

When all the speeches were over and commotion started up in the room again, Dan finally felt like he could breathe.

“So that happened,” Emily whispered.

“Yup” was all Dan could manage.

“You survive?” she asked.

“Check with me after I’ve actually had to talk to him.”

Emily let out a quiet laugh. “Just try not to fuck it up too much.”

Dan shot her a playful glare. “You know, you technically work for me, right?”

“Who wants to live by technicalities?” Emily patted Dan’s knee and stood up. “Now, go. Mingle. Flit about. You’ll get your meet-and-greet soon.”

“Don’t call it that.”

Emily just gave him a bright grin as she walked over to where some of the other invitees managers were standing.

Dan got up like he was told and was trying and failing to make small talk, when one of the coordinators came in and told him and the other Youtubers to follow him out because they were going to go to another room where they could meet the prince.

Immediately, Dan began to sweat and had to wipe away the extra moisture on his trousers. His heart was thrumming and his mouth was dry, and he was one tiny nudge away from a full blown panic attack.

He forced himself to take deep breaths, to relax his body, to do the physical things he’d been taught in therapy would work to help calm his mental state as well. Whatever happened, good or bad, it would be over in an hour, and he could try to move on with the rest of his life as if this never happened. Or, you know, he could maybe make a video out of it—Fairytale Time: I met an actual PRINCE.

The coordinator had he and the other Youtubers stand near some weird fake flowers that were meant to go with the strange theme that was making Dan feel a little woozy at this point. Dan expected them to list off a whole bunch of rules they had follow when they met Prince Philip and if they messed them up they’d be tossed into jail. But the coordinators didn’t say anything like that at all, and neither did the prince’s security when they came in. They probably just expected that they’d all know what to do or something. Thankfully, Dan had looked it up online to be sure of the etiquette. All he knew was he couldn’t touch him, unless he initiated, and he had to call him Your Royal Highness.

It seemed like forever from when they were all gathered in that room and when the doors finally opened and Prince Philip walked through them.

He was so close—and looking so familiar to Dan who knew his face backwards and forwards. He had a gentle smile and his hands tucked in his pockets. He seemed soft, shy in a way that made Dan almost want to help him out, even though he knew it was ridiculous. He was still a prince, and Dan was still just Dan.

Prince Philip started at the other end of the short line of people and greeted them individually. He was soft-spoken so Dan couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, until he was standing no more than a foot away from Dan.

Dan had a strange thought to try and smell the prince, but the candles burning in the room were far too strong for him to do that, and it was weird anyway. Dan needed to stop thinking about sniffing the prince and start thinking about—

“Hello,” Prince Philip said. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s my pleasure, your Royal Highness. I’m Daniel Howell. Dan.” Dan looked right at the prince, into the eyes everyone called blue, but were definitely three distinct colors. A little blue, sure, but a little yellow too, and just the nicest hint of green.

“It’s good to meet you.” Prince Philip put out his hand and Dan looked down at it.

“Your guards over there won’t tackle me?” Dan asked.

The prince smiled. It was a good smile. “You’re safe. They haven’t tackled a man since the unfortunate tackling incident of 09.”

Dan took Prince Philip’s hand and did his best to ignore that resurrected voice in his head going _you’re touching the prince’s hand. Oh my God. Oh my God._

“Sir, would you like to all take a seat and talk for a moment?” one of Prince Philip’s guards said.

“Right, of course,” Phil said, starting to step away toward the blue curved couch, then he looked over his shoulder at Dan. “I’m glad you’re here, Dan.”

It was fucking wild to hear his own name coming out Prince Philip’s mouth.

Dan joined the others around the couch and, somehow, in the scuttle, he’d ended up sat next to Prince Philip. Dan did his best to give him a wide princely berth but he was still technically sat next to him, and he could see the way his trousers were hugging his slender thighs.

Prince Philip started up the conversation by asking people to share a time they’d been bullied on the internet, and a few of the others went first and when it got to Dan’s turn, he considered not sharing, but the prince was looking at him with warm, focused eyes, his head tilted slightly like he was very interested in what Dan had to say.

It was too risky to try and come up with a cool sounding lie right now, so Dan just went ahead and told the truth. Probably the too-honest truth. “I think the hardest for me… has always been people bullying me about my sexuality. It hurt to have people throws these things at me like they were insults and it led me to say and do things that I wish I hadn’t. I mean, uh, trolls and bullies, whatever, they try to figure out what your weak spots are and exploit them to make themselves feel better. It took a long time, but I eventually learned to not let it have power over me—and kind of call out that behavior and drag it into the light.”

Prince Philip gave him a warm smile, and it held back the regret Dan felt forming in his mind. “It’s tough… figuring out who we are when we have so many people watching us. I get that. I really do.”

Suddenly, Dan really hated that there were other people here. That this wasn’t just a slow conversation between the two of them.

They moved onto other things after that and they talked much longer than it seemed the guards checking their watches wished they would.

“Alright,” Phil said. “It’s been so lovely talking to all of you, and I’d love to get some pictures with you all, if you’re up for it.”

Of course, everyone agreed, but Dan didn’t care so much about the picture. He just wanted to steal a little more time with this man, as futile and pointless as that was.

Once again, Dan found himself at the back of the line. He watched the others walk up and pose with the prince. He’d stand beside them and say a few words as the photographer snapped a picture. He was kind about it—and dealt with it all smoothly. It was clear this was a man who’d been doing things like this his whole life.

When it was Dan’s turn, he almost felt relieved more than nervous. It was weird, but he was just happy to see Prince Philip, to see that smile, those eyes and maybe hear his warm voice say his name again.

“Long time no see,” the prince said.

The lame, almost dad-ness of the joke, had Dan grinning wide enough it tugged at his cheeks. “I know, sir. It’s been so long—and you didn’t even write to me.”

“You could’ve written too, you know. I’ve worked very hard to keep the price of postage reasonable.”

“Is that one of the powers of the royal family? Postage pricing? Because they didn’t teach us about that in school.”

“No, but I’ve written strongly worded, anonymous letters to the House of Commons.”

“The power of vocabulary.”

Prince Philip laughed—and Dan could barely believe he was actually responsible for making that wonderful, warm sound come out of the prince’s mouth.

“How would you like to pose for the picture?” the photographer prompted, obviously just to get their attention, because it wasn’t like Dan was going to ask for a YouTube meet-and-greet style pose. Like they’re not going to reenact the fucking Titanic ‘king of the world’ scene.

Dan moved in beside Prince Philip, who put an arm around his back—that was… he had definitely not done that with the others. Dan hesitated, but returned the gesture, feeling the expensive fabric of the prince’s suit, the slight curve of his back beneath it. The photographer snapped the photo, and said they’d send it to Dan later.

He started to step away when the prince took hold of wrist, drawing Dan’s attention back to him. His stomach flipped as their eyes met.

“It really was good, Dan, meeting you,” Prince Philip said, his voice lower than it had been before.

Dan swallowed, trying to wet his totally dry mouth. “You too, sir.” Dan just smiled. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You do the same, Dan.” He quieted his voice.

As he walked away, Dan stole one more glance over his shoulder towards Phil, who just looked back at him, that lovely smile curled on his face.

When he got out of Google headquarters and back into the car driving away, he shot a text to Louise.

_Yeah, I’m royally fucked._

 


	3. Chapter 3

Just a few seconds after Dan sent the text message to Louise, his phone buzzed.

Louise: What? What happened?

Dan just kind of stared down at the message, unsure how to reply, unsure of what had happened at all. But it felt good, really good. Scary good. What was wrong with him?

Louise: Daniel Howell. Talk to me.

Dan: I don’t… I don’t even know.

Louise: Oh my god. Did you blow him?

Dan: Louise!!

Louise: Sorry but like I need the details immediately.

Dan: I just… oh fuck, I don’t know. I’m so fucking into him. It’s so stupid.

Louise: eeeeeeek

Dan: It’s probably just all in my head, but

Louise: But what?

Dan: I think, I don’t know, like at all, okay, but I think he maybe might have been flirting with me.

Louise just replied with a bunch of shocked face emojis.

Dan: He wasn’t… I’m being dumb. That’s literally such a cringe thing to say. It’s just God… I don’t know. I haven’t felt like that in so long.

Louise: He could’ve been. You’re adorable and you never know.

Dan: Thanks a lot. :/ Seriously though, he’s gotta be straight, right?

Louise: You think so?

Dan: I don’t think it matters. It’s not like I’m going to ever see him, and even if I did, it’s not like… I mean, that’s crazy. I don’t know. I feel weird.

Louise didn’t immediately respond, but she did finally reply a few minutes later.

Louise: Please don’t be actually sad about this… I know how you get, but like, I don’t want to be like “mom” here, but I love you and you deserve something real. Someone you can actually have and like love and stuff.

Dan felt some of the adrenaline inside him shift into something a little darker, a little lower. He put his phone in his pocket and leaned his head against the train window. He just focused on a little crack in the glass until all his thoughts just faded into a monotone hum that sounded no different than the roar of the underground.

Later that night, he got another text from Louise.

Louise: Please, please don’t be mad at me.

Dan: I’m not. You’re right.

She texted him back something after that, but Dan didn’t have the energy to look at it. Instead, he went up to his bedroom and tugged off his clothes. He pulled on a hoody and kept on nothing else but his pants. His stomach growled so he walked back down to the kitchen and heated up last night’s take-away in the microwave.

He was just about to sit down and watch some _American Horror Story_ when his phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t Louise, but Emily sending him the photo he’d taken with Phil.

Dan’s mouth went dry as he opened up the text and saw the photo. They both actually looked genuinely happy in the picture, which was a shock. Dan usually looked awkward as hell during photo-ops. As a matter of fact, the prince often looked awkward in photos too. That was another way people liked to compare Philip and Martyn. Martyn had been photogenic. He’d looked like everyone’s idea of a future king.

Emily: you look good together :P

Dan: haha shut up.

Dan debated posting the photo. He knew people knew because he was in some of the other YouTubers instagram stories, and news traveled fast amongst his subscribers. He was almost scared to look at his social media account. The last thing Dan needed was a repeat of “Hey Buddy, you in London?” Thankfully, Nick hadn’t minded and they’d had coffee that day and ended up friends. It wasn’t like Prince Philip had a social media account to spam anyway, so Dan just gathered his courage and posted their picture on instagram. He considered saying something Dan-ish and cheeky, but instead he just wrote a little sentence about Stop, Speak, Support and linked their webpage.

It took all of thirty seconds to have the comments filled with things like:

_oh my god, dan are you still alive?_

_Fetus!dan is quaking._

_I ship it._

_#Phan._

With a groan, Dan turned off his phone and chucked it to the end of the sofa. He grabbed the remote and started to play the latest episode of _American Horror Story_ that he had saved on his computer. He ate his leftover take-away, drank a few glasses of Ribena and did his best not to think about how it felt to have Prince Philip’s hand in his, even for a moment.

 

He cancelled his liveshow that Tuesday. People would want him to talk about meeting the prince, but once he got started talking, he had a really hard time not just saying shit he didn’t mean to say. So he cancelled it and tucked himself deeper away. He had a dinof video to work on—and he could probably film something for his gaming channel, but he always found those extra lonely for some reason. Dan wanted to feel normal right now, not lonely. He honestly wasn’t sure how to do that.

Dan tried hard to stop that day from replaying in his mind, but it always cropped up no matter how much he tried. He even dreamed about it sometimes, in small bits and pieces. When he thought about Phil, about the few words they’d exchanged, how it had seemed like they’d both tried to hold onto that moment a little longer, his heart would flutter. For a second, he’d feel better. Then, the realization that he’d never feel that again would wash away the giddiness.

He’d been hiding out in his room for hours, pacing the floor and trying to come up with something for his newest video. He had no ideas—well, technically he had a Word doc full of ideas, but the inspiration for none of them. Dan had written and trashed about fifteen scripts he’d started, he had a splitting headache and he hadn’t eaten all day—or really had much to drink. He should probably have done something about it, but he didn’t have the energy or the motivation.

Dan flopped back on his bed, held his phone above his face and started mindlessly scrolling through apps as his stomach growled. He typed in the web address for Pizza Hut, but the thought of filling out the whole menu thing seemed overwhelming.

Instead, he ended up on Twitter.

_When you want that sweet pepperoni but you lack the motivation to fill out an online order form. Feed me, Pizza Hut daddy._

He regretted it almost as soon as he posted it _,_ but there was nothing he could do about it now, so he just responded to some people’s comments. A good sixty percent of them were basically _what the fuck, Dan?_ Or _you haven’t tweeted in days and this is how you return??_

He finished replying, and then rolled over on the bed, pressing his face into his pillow. He should probably not be alone when he was having one of those days, but there wasn’t really any place for him to go. There were definite downsides best friend who lived on the other side of the world, even when you liked to spend most of your time alone anyway.

But Dan could at least get up and drink some water. He could manage about that much, maybe, so he tried to pry himself from the soft comfort of his bed. He couldn’t make his body move. So maybe not. instead he just turned on YouTube and got lost in a mind-numbing spiral of vine compilations, bad stand-up comedy, clips from American political talk shows—and even some weird spoken poetry—that made him feel about a thousand times worse.

He’d had to be laying there for at least an hour when someone buzzed his door. He almost didn’t get up to get it, but the second buzz dragged him over to the intercom.

“Who is it?” he asked dazedly.

“Uh, it’s your pizza.”

Dan blinked. He didn’t remember ordering a pizza, but in the weird haze of his thoughts right now, he technically could have. He must’ve. “Okay, I’ll be right down.”

He opened the door to see the Pizza Hut delivery man standing there with his red box.

“Thanks,” Dan said, as the man handed him the pizza.

“Oh, there’s a note in there. The man who called us was very insistent that we include it. I hope it’s not too greasy from the cheese.”

Dan tensed. So he _hadn’t_ ordered the pizza… then, who did? Who knew his address? _Fuck._ His eyes went wide and he stiffened.

“Don’t worry,” the pizza man said. “I read the note. It didn’t seem like anything _too_ creepy.”

“So it was _mildly_ creepy?”

The man nodded. “Yes, that’s how I’d put it.”

“Great, thanks,” Dan said absent-mindedly. “Have a good night.” He shut the door, and then rushed over to the kitchen table to open the cardboard box to read the note.

_Sorry, if sending you a surprise pizza is weird, but you sounded hungry on Twitter so I thought I’d help. And the best part about pizza is they don’t charge for postage. Thanks for all your help._

_Enjoy the pepperoni goodness._

Dan nearly knocked over the dining chair as he plopped down into it. This _couldn’t_ be real. He _had_ to be hallucinating. Prince Philip wouldn’t have sent him a pizza, right? But if he had… _oh God…_ Phil had literally seen Dan use the phrase ‘Pizza Hut Daddy’.

Dan could feel his whole face go hot. What the fuck had he been thinking? He was absolutely mortified.

“God, you living flop!” he muttered to himself.

But no matter how ridiculous he’d been on Twitter, the actual prince of this country had still sent him a fucking pepperoni pizza. What the hell? What the ever-loving fucking hell was he supposed to do with that?


	4. Chapter 4

Dan had done the only thing he could do. He stress ate the whole pizza that the future king of England had sent him. Well, he was pretty sure it was Prince Philip who had sent the pizza. The postage joke was kind of a dead give away… unless someone overheard them, but no, that didn’t make sense. They wouldn’t have understood the importance of it. Maybe he should find it a little weird that the prince knew his address… like was that kind of stalkery or… no, it wasn’t because the Royal Foundation definitely had his address and it would taken like .002 seconds for the prince to find. It would have been totally easy to do. Too easy. Easy enough that maybe the prince had just done something nice for everyone who had helped out… but this felt so personal. It wasn’t like a fruit basket or some shit that got sent to everyone. It was a pizza. A pizza because Dan had shouted into the void for one.

Just thinking about all this was making Dan a little crazy. Feeling sick to his stomach after eating _that_ much pizza, Dan crammed the pizza box into the bin and dragged himself upstairs to bed.

 

It was nearly noon the following day when Dan was woken up by a text message.

Nick: Hey buddy, you in London?

Dan: really? reeeeally?

Nick: :P Well, are you?

Dan: Yeah. Why?

Nick: Same. Wanna hang?

Dan: i’m still in bed, but if you want to come over here and order takeaway and let me kick your ass at mario kart, i wouldn’t say no.

Nick: Um, you know I’m better at Mario Kart than you.

Dan: hate to break it to you, but i let you win.

Nick: what? no you don’t. why would you?

Dan: because you’re nick jonas and i want you to hang out with me again.

Nick: Bullshit.

It was half bullshit. Dan really had wanted Nick to hang out with him again that first time they’d played. They had a good time together--and Dan didn’t really have all that many friends, but he hadn’t let Nick win at Mario Kart. He’d just been honestly bested—as he’d been the other times Nick had won when they’d played. He’d never let Nick know that though.

Dan: well, come over here and prove me wrong.

Nick: Okay, mate.

Dan: it seems weird when you say it.

Nick: Okay, BRO

Dan: better.

Dan: oh and fair warning i’m going to be sitting around in my pants

Nick: That sounds super fun for me. :P Be there in like an hour.

Dan: kay.

Dan crawled out of bed, slipped on new pants and a grey hoody plonked down at the kitchen table to start scrolling through tumblr. He’d avoided it for a while, after meeting the prince, and now that he was seeing what people were posting he probably should have kept avoiding it.

There was already a pretty alarming amount of fic. Curiosity had always been a problem for Dan so he found himself clicking on an E rated fic and reading, but he backed out the moment the author started describing Dan’s cock in minute but inaccurate detail. That probably should have been enough to stop him from scrolling, but he kept on. He did see one rather lovely drawing of the two of them though and, without thinking about it too much, Dan had liked it. There were some edits of their picture together, some headcanons and fic about what their meeting was like, which were all wrong—even the well written ones—and there were quite a few people just making fun of him. He honestly couldn’t blame them. Knowing his past like they did, it _was_ a pretty ridiculous situation. He really hoped Prince Philip wouldn’t see it, though thankfully there really wasn’t much chance of that.

Nick: Let me in, BRO.

Dan buzzed Nick up to his flat, and opened the door for when he knocked. He walked in smiling, wearing a bright short-sleeve button up and well-fitting jeans. Nick looked good, put together. Maybe Dan’s plan to stay in his pants wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had. But it wasn’t like Nick actually cared what he looked like.

They did the weird man handshake thing, but ultimately it just turned into a normal hug. Dan really had missed Nick. They saw each other a lot for people who lived so far apart, but it still wasn’t enough.

When Nick pulled back he glanced down at Dan. “You weren’t kidding. You really are in your underwear.”

Dan gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “Don’t judge me.”

“And what’s this.” Nick grabbed at the straps of fabric across the front of his hoody. “This looks like one of those trendy mom baby carriers.”

Dan pushed Nick’s hands away from him. “I didn’t invite you here to drag my fashion choices. I invited you here to kick your ass at Mario Kart.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go. Loser buys lunch.”

They played Mario Kart for several hours and, by the end, Dan had won about fifty-five percent of the time and decided to never let Nick live it down ever.

“See,” Dan said with a cheeky grin. “I told you I’ve let you win before.”

“Yeah right. You barely won today.”

Dan stood up from his sofa. “I guess you’ll never know, and you’ll always have to live wondering what the truth really is.”

Nick let out a loud sigh. “So what am I buying you for lunch?”

They settled on burritos from a nearby Mexican restaurant, and they ended up watching a re-run of _Friends_ that was on TV while they waited for the take-away to arrive.

“Dude,” Nick said, coming back into the lounge. “What’s this?” He was holding the greasy top of a pizza box.

Dan tensed. “Why are you digging around in the bin?”

Nick read the note on top of the pizza box, and Dan could feel himself blush as he did.

“Seriously, Dan. Who is this from?”

Dan stood up and tried to grab the torn box. “No one.”

“Bull. Shit. You’re red all over.”

“It’s really not… I don’t know what it is.” Dan sighed. Nick was his best friend if he could talk to anyone about this, it was him. “If I tell you this, you have to promise to keep your shit together.”

Dan’s door buzzed again, and Nick stood up.

“Hold that thought,” Nick said as he walked towards the door.

Dan chewed on his thumbnail as he waited for Nick to get back. He was nervous about saying something, but he was kind of dying to get it off his chest at the same time.

Nick sat the food down on the coffee table. “Okay, spill.”

“I need to take a bite first. Calm my nerves with burritos."

Nick pulled out their food and their bottles of Diet Coke and plopped down besides Dan.

Dan said, “So like, I was at this work function, you know recently, where I met some, um people, and then I tweeted about wanting pizza.”

Nick gave him a look. “The pizza daddy tweet? I was hoping I hallucinated that.”

“Shut up, yeah. Anyway, I tweeted that and then later, a pizza arrived out of nowhere.”

“Oh my fucking God. Do you have a stalker? Jesus, Dan. Are you safe?”

“You said you wouldn’t lose your shit.”

“I didn’t think you’d say you had a—”

“I don’t have a fucking stalker, Nick. Chill.”

Nick took a breath. “Wait, you were saying you met someone at a work function? Is that who it’s from?”

Dan nodded. “Uh, yeah. Yeah it is.”

“So, someone’s into you? Are you into them?”

“Just because someone sent me a pizza doesn’t mean they’re into me.”

Nick snorted “You can’t be serious? Of course it does!”

The insinuation made his heart skip, but he had to temper that. “I don’t know what it means exactly, but I know for an absolute fact that it doesn’t mean that.’’

“Dan—”

“What about you,” Dan asked to change the subject, “I told you my weird shit. Your turn. What happened with that girl you were talking to?”

Nick shrugged and let out a sigh. “It’s getting kind of serious, I guess. She’s smart. We have a good time together. She’s just easy to talk to, you know?”

Dan did know what Nick meant. Easier than his last girlfriend, who’d challenged him at every turn.

“She’s a Victoria’s Secret model, isn’t she?”

Nick smiled, his voice light. “Yeah. It’s kind of hard to compete with a Victoria’s Secret model when it comes to bragging rights. My brothers are shook.”

Dan felt a strange heat in his cheek as his jaw tightened, as he thought about who sent him the pizza. His eyes darted toward the torn cardboard. “Uh. _Yeah…_ it is. _”_ When he reached out for a tortilla chip, Nick smacked it out of his hand. “Hey!”

“What’s with that face? Who sent you that pizza, Dan? Oh my God. Can _you_ compete with a Victoria’s Secret model?”

“Uh-umm I…what? How did this become a competition?”

“Anything is a competition if you compete at it. Now, tell me. Who the hell sent you the pizza?”

Dan tried to sound nonchalant.“His name’s Phil—,”

“Some guy named Phil beats a Victoria’s Secret model? I know I’m not into dudes but—wait… Phil?”

“Yeah.”

“Phil. Philip. Phil.. ip. _Philip.”_

“Yes, Nick. Are you like glitching out?”

His eyes got wide and his mouth dropped open. “A _prince_? An actual fucking _prince?_ ”

Dan felt himself blush. “Nick, come on.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised Nick figured it out when he said the name. Nick had liked Dan’s photo on instagram after all.

“When you said you could beat Victoria’s Secret model, you weren’t fucking around. Jesus, Dan. He’s the future king.”

Dan thought to inform Nick that he hadn’t actually ever said that, but it didn’t seem worth it. “Slow down, Nick. He just sent me a pizza.”

“I’m from Texas. I know what sending someone a pizza means.”

“ _What_?”

Sometimes Nick made absolutely no sense to Dan at all.

Nick took another bite of his burrito then said, “My ass better get invited to the royal wedding.”

“ _Wedding_?” Dan spluttered. “It was a pizza!”

“All I’m saying is I want to wear one of those outlandish hats.”

“It’s only the women that wear the hats,” Dan said.

“You’re going to enforce traditional gender roles at your wedding?”

“No, of course I’m not… you can wear whatever you—oh my God, what the fuck are we talking about?”

Nick just laughed.

Dan let out a breath. “Seriously though, what do you think it means?”

Nick shook his head. “Man, I don’t know. It’s pretty weird. What do you want it to mean?”

“I don’t even know… I mean, he’s really good looking and really nice, but he’s the prince. It seems silly to even think about it. It’s not like he’s…”

“What? Gay?” Nick asked. “Or like bi or whatever?”

“I mean, what’s the likelihood of that? Or the likelihood that…”

“That you could be anything but a side fuck?”

Nick really did know how to get straight to the heart of an issue. It was probably one of the reasons they were such good friends. He cut right through Dan’s shit.

“I mean, he can’t marry a bloke,” Dan said. “Not that I’m talking about marrying him. Jesus.”

“Is that like a rule or something?”

Dan shrugged. “Probably an unwritten one. You have to like produce an heir and shit.”

“Yeah… so maybe it is a friendship pizza?” Nick said. “Or like a we-worked-together pizza? Still seems weird but maybe.”

“Probably.”

Just then, Dan’s phone rang, and it was Emily. Dan looked at Nick, then hesitated to answer.

“Who is it?” Nick asked.

“It’s Em."

Nick dropped his gaze. “Oh.”

“I don’t have to answer it. I can call her back.’

“Don’t be ridiculous. Answer it. I have to go anyway,” Nick said.

“Thanks for the burritos,” Dan said. “And letting me beat you at Mario Kart.”

Nick nodded and gave him a small smile. He turned and walked toward the front door, grabbing his keys on the way.

Dan answered the phone.

“Hey, Emily. What’s up?”

“So, kind of a weird thing, actually.”

Dan furrowed his brow. “What kind of a weird thing?”

“I got a phone call from the Stop, Speak, Support people and they were wondering if you’d be willing to help out with something?”

“Of course. I’d be more than happy to. Whatever they need.”

“Right. There’s just some planning stuff, I guess. For another event. They want you on the committee. Like the main committee for the campaign.”

This shocked Dan a little. He’d just been an invitee at the last one. Someone meant to give a speech and make young people pay attention or whatever. To be a part of the committee was a totally separate thing, a leadership position basically.

“Seriously? So like they’re bringing the Youtubers in more?”

“Not the Youtubers, Dan,” Emily said. “ _You_.”

It took a moment for what Emily said to register.

“Oh… _Oh._ ”

“Yeah, so I guess they were rather impressed with you.”

That explained the pizza Dan guessed. Prince Philip just actually did appreciate the work he’d done on the campaign and showed it in a really strange way. Dan considered telling Emily about the pizza, but for some reason he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I guess… so what do I need to do?”

“I’ll send you some notes so you can prepare for the meeting and come with questions and ideas. The meeting is next Thursday.”

“Sounds great. Thanks for letting me know.” Dan’s front door opened and he jumped. It was Nick.

“Sorry, forgot my wallet,” Nick said. He grabbed it off the coffee table and then saluted Dan as he walked off.

Emily’s voice lowered, “Who was that?”

Dan hesitated, his voice low. “You know who it was, Em.”

After a beat of silence, she spoke, “How… how is he?”

“He’s good.”

“ _Good_?”

For months, Dan had always answered Emily’s question the same way. The way Nick had told him to. _He’s fine._

“Yeah, Em. He really is.”

“I’m glad. He deserves—”

“He does.”

“Okay, well. I’ll send you that information. Have a good day, Dan.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “You too.”

Dan ended the call and sat his phone down beside all the rubbish from their lunch. He laid his back against the couch and let out a long sigh. He had way too many feelings and thoughts twist-tangling in his head. He needed to do the one thing he could do to totally get everything else out of his mind—play GuildWars2


	5. Chapter 5

Dan spent the next week working on the information Emily had sent him for the Stop, Speak, Support meeting. He knew if he told anyone, including Emily, how much time he’d spent thinking about it and mostly ignoring his channel, only to upload a few rushed gaming videos, they’d think he was mad.

Soon, it was already the following Wednesday. The meeting was on Thursday and Dan’s nerves were through the roof, even though he wasn’t certain Prince Philip would be there at all. The meeting was at Kensington Palace where he lived, however, so there was a chance.

Apparently, the way that Dan’s anxiety liked to present itself now was with a wardrobe crisis. He found himself once again, standing in front of a mountain of clothes on his bed, with absolutely no idea what he was going to wear the next day.

He paced around for awhile, before remembering Louise had been helpful deciding what to wear and maybe she’d indulge him again, if he bought take out and helped her put her socks on or something. But when he texted her, she told him no because she had a prenatal appointment, which she explained in far too much detail.

After a bit more pacing, Dan was desperate enough to try something else.

Dan: heyyyy buddy, you still in London?

He’d seen Nick a few times over the last week. They’d had dinner and drinks, and gone to the movies, but Dan wasn’t sure he was still in the country. Nick tended to come and go without much notice.

Nick: lmao yeah. Why?

Dan: can you come over to my house? it’s kind of an emergency

Nick: What kind of emergency?

Dan had started to type, but before he could send the message Nick texted again.

Nick: And if you say fashion emergency, I swear to God.

Dan: it’s not a fashion emergency.

Well, it was, but he wasn’t going to admit that upfront. He needed Nick to actually drag his ass over here.

Nick: Should you call 911? i mean like British 911?

Dan: 999? no, just come to my house. pls.

Nick: whatever. fine. on my way.

When Nick arrived, Dan opened the door and Nick immediately asked, “Okay, where’s the emergency?”

“In the bedroom.”

Nick cringed. “This isn’t about dildos again, is it?”

“Those were anal beads… and no.”

“I regret our friendship at least once a day,” Nick said, but it didn’t stop him from following Dan up the stairs to the bedroom.

“Okay,” Dan said, “So here’s the thing.”

Nick was staring down at the concerning pile of clothes on Dan’s bed. “I said it better _not_ be a fashion emergency.”

“You did and I can explain…”

“Okay,” Nick said. “Explain.

“I lied.”

“Alright, I’m out.” Nick groaned and started for the bedroom door.

Dan blocked his path. “I’m going to see Prince Philip again.” Well, probably. Nick didn’t really need the details though.

“Really?”

“They asked me to be a part of like the actual leadership committee for the whole thing and I have to go to Kensington Palace tomorrow and I’m freaking out here a little, mate.”

Nick pushed his hand back through his hair. “You… like him, don’t you?”

“Nick.”

“I’m not taking the piss. You’re my best friend and I’m genuinely curious. You’re into him?’

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, I know it’s literally insane. It’s not like he’s going to… but you know. Fuck. Just help me.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to help, but… alright.” Nick walked over to Dan’s desk and flopped into Dan’s butt chair. “Are you going to like… give me a fashion show?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Absolutely none of this is about what I want.”

Dan turned his back to Nick and started going through all his clothes. “Like I wish I knew what he was going to wear. I mean, should I google paparazzi photos of him to see like what he wears casually so I can kind of like match him.”

“You want to _match_ him?”

“Not in like a weird way, just in a like a subtly suggesting to his subconscious that we have things in common way.”

“Dan he’s the prince, and you’re… well, you’re _not_ the same.”

Dan shot him a glare. “I know, but I want him to think we are. Psychologically that helps people like you more.”

“I know you work out as a way to maintain your mental health, but I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing it while listening to self improvement audiobooks.” Nick shook his head. “Why are you asking _me_ anyway? You’re more into fashion than I am.”

“Yeah.” Dan sighed. “But I don’t know how to like… dress for royalty.”

“Dan, I’m an American. The last time we dressed for royalty we threw all your tea into Boston Harbor.”

Dan gave Nick a flat look. “You’re an excruciating best friend.”

Nick spun around in the butt chair. “He seemed to like you well enough in whatever you wore the first time.”

“Louise picked it out.”

He gave Dan a strained smile. “So why isn’t she the one here having a super fun time with you?”

“She had some sort of pregnancy appointment—apparently entire hands were going up unnamed places. She chose clinical fisting over helping me pick an outfit!”

Nick snickered.

“ _What_?”

“Nothing.” Nick shrugged with a smile. “Just, you know. Mood.”

“Fuck off.”

Dan started tossing his own merch t-shirts out of the pile and onto the floor. If he threw one directly into Nick’s face, then it was nothing more than a happy accident.

“Not wearing your own merch. Already off to a good start,” Nick said.

Dan flipped him off.

“Oh, alright. I’m sorry. I’ll stop being a dick… and instead I’ll be hashtag Dick, if you know what I mean.” Nick winked.

“Look, mate. Put up or shut up.”

There had been a time where Dan had wondered if there could be more between him and Nick than friendship. He’d had a flurry of excitement that maybe that’s what ‘hey buddy, you in London’ meant, but they’d settled into friendship rather quickly and oddly, Dan hadn’t been that disappointed. They were good friends, but that spark wasn’t really there. Even though he’d technically had a ‘celebrity crush’ on both of them at one point, touching Nick the first time had been nothing like touching Prince Philip. The difference was nearly astounding. Nothing had been like that before…

But, damn, he had to stop himself thinking like that.

Dan grabbed two jumpers—a soft fuzzy black one, and his End jumper—and held them back up. “Which one?”

“The fuzzy one. The other one is too ironic.”

That was what Louise had said about it too.

Dan sighed. “What’s wrong with ironic? I _am_ ironic.”

“The irony is that no you’re really not.”

Reluctantly, Dan tossed the End jumper into the pile of merch shirts. He grabbed his Yeezy jumper and held it up with the fuzzy one. “Now, which one?”

“Fuzzy sweater,” Nick said. “It even makes me want touch you and I mostly think you’re gross.”

Dan looked down at the fuzzy jumper and decided Nick was right. He could wear that jumper and some black jeans, and survive this meeting. Even if Prince Philip was there because after all he was just a person. People were just people.

There had even been a time when Nick had just been someone for Dan to idolize, but over time, he’d become Dan’s closest friend, someone who Dan had once held when he cried because the girl he’d wanted to marry had told him that even though she loved Nick, it didn’t matter because she couldn’t love Nick Jonas ™.

Dan threw the fuzzy jumper at Nick. “Want to order take-away and hate watch daily vloggers?”

“I don’t _love_ that that’s our idea of a boy’s night, but I’m still in.”

 

Dan woke up the next morning with a hand over his face. He groaned and shoved it off him hard.

Nick grumbled beside Dan as he woke.

“You know teenage Dan would be really disappointed to know what waking up beside Nick Jonas is like.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” Nick mumbled, sleepily.

Dan flipped Nick off and then reached over him to grab his cell phone off the nightstand.

“Fuck,” Dan said. “I overslept. Shit.” He rolled back off Nick, with his phone in his hand. Dan practically threw himself out of the bed.

Nick sat up. “Are you actually going to be late?”

“I don’t know. Fuck. Not if I hurry.” Dan just started undressing in front of Nick. He gave zero fucks. “What did we decide I was wearing?”

“Fuzzy jumper,” Nick said. “Ew. You have me saying jumper.”

Dan just ignored Nick as he pulled his pants down and tripped over them as he tried to kick them off his ankles.

“Jesus, Dan. Thanks for the eye full.”

“You’ll live,” Dan said as he fished some boxer-briefs out of his drawer. He tugged them on, then his trousers and the fuzzy jumper. “How do I look?”

“I don’t know. Your dick is still burned into my retinas.”

Dan just glared at him.

“I’m just fucking with you, man. You look fine. Just like, you know, brush your teeth.”

“Right,” Dan said. ‘Teeth. Good idea.”

Dan finished getting ready in the bathroom then walked back into the bedroom. Nick was still in the bed, but he was sitting crossed legged on the bed, looking at his phone.

“You mind if I hang out here today?” Nick asked.

“No. Go for it. Will you be here when I get back?”

Nick yawned. “Probably. I don’t have any plans until later. Have fun with the prince.”

Dan didn’t know what to say so he just gave Nick a nervous smile and headed out the door.

 

Dan took the underground and arrived at Kensington Palace just in time to claim that he wasn’t late. After being checked out by security, Dan had hurried inside barely getting anytime to notice the well kept-green lawn, the ornate statues and the imposing red brick architecture. From the outside, Kensington Palace looked less like what he’d think of as a palace and more like its own separate town.

He was led to ‘apartment 8’ where he entered a serious and regal looking reception area. It seemed like the kind of place where maybe royals would sit down with the heads of states of other countries and he felt suddenly both incredibly small and incredibly determined to prove that he wasn’t.

Dan was overwhelmed with relief when he scanned the small crowd of vaguely familiar faces to find Emily stood back with, on her own, but against the wall with some other staff members. He walked over to her.

“Sorry I’m almost late.”

Emily sighed. “I’m just glad you’re here. I was beginning to feel distinctly out of place.”

Dan scanned the opulent room again. “How on earth do I help with that?”

“Good point.”

After a few moments, Dan was drawn in by some of the more outspoken coordinators and he naturally led to sit around on some expensive white sofas and chairs. Dan was sat on one of the sofas alone.

Dan had been so nervous about getting inside and figuring out where he needed to go without getting arrested or something, he hadn’t taken the time to feel nervous about the thing he’d originally felt nervous about—seeing the prince again.

As the meeting began and they all started to discuss their ideas on how to spread the message Stop, Speak, Support was intent on spreading—something Dan had a stack of notecards about—Dan began to relax, began to assume that Prince Philip had simply invited them there to use this space to discuss the campaign, but had no intention on participating at this level.

It made sense, of course, as they continued to discuss the nitty-gritty details, as they planned out a variety of schools and locations that could host the event they wanted to host, that the actual future king wouldn’t be a part of something like this. At the end of the day, it was just a silly meeting and all meetings were boring.

But then, about a half an hour in, the doors at back of the room opened, and Dan’s stomach dropped into his feet. Prince Philip entered the room, flanked by a muscular bodyguard on one side and poised woman—probably his assistant—that reminded Dan of what Emily might look like in twenty years.

Everyone stood. Of course everyone stood. He was the prince.

As the prince approached, Dan felt his heart pick up speed and then, Prince Philip’s eyes met his and he felt it, like someone had reached into his chest and rapped their knuckles on his heart. The prince’s eyes went soft, the corner of his mouth turning up. Dan could tell that it was recognition, and he thought maybe, that it was fondrecognition. This man _had_ sent Dan a thank you pizza after all.

“You can, um, sit down everyone, please,” Prince Philip said. “I’m so sorry I’m late. My last meeting ran long.” There was an empty chair in a central location of where the six of them had gathered and Dan expected the prince to sit there. He didn’t. He sat on the sofa by Dan.

Instinctively, Dan looked to Emily, and she just shot him back a wide eyed look of surprise. _Super fucking helpful._

 _“_ Would someone be willing to quickly catch me up?” the prince asked.

Because Dan had a big mouth and control issues, he found himself speaking up despite his nerves. He explained as succinctly as he could what they’d considered so far, and he tried not to trip over his words because Prince Philip was watching him, and his eyes were three colors, and he sat close enough that Dan could see each one of them.

“It sounds like you’ve been very productive. I do think we need to make sure we’re staying grounded, relatable. If we come into schools like we’re a royal program, it may feel a bit stuffy.”

“I can always go,” Dan said. “I don’t mind. We can talk to more Youtubers, as well. I think it will go a long way, but it also needs to feel—like not boring—like we have to give them something so they’re receptive to the idea. If they’re pissed we’re even there…”

_Don’t say pissed in front of the prince, Dan. Jesus._

“Would they be pissed?” Prince Philip said, which put Dan’s mind at ease about his slight curse. “I assumed getting out of school for any reason would be seen as a positive.”

Dan angled himself more toward the prince. “I just mean if it comes across cringey, they’re going to be hesitant to our message regardless of what it is. They’re teenagers. They still want to be cool.”

Prince Philip nodded and turned in a little towards Dan as well, though when he spoke he addressed everyone. “So, do we have any ideas on what they might like? What might make us seem less… cringey?” He looked over at Dan, like maybe he wanted some reassurance he’d used the term properly.

Dan nodded, with the barest hint of a smile, then looked away.

The committee tossed around some ideas before settling on the idea of having a band play. Music was universally cool, universally liked more than a maths lesson anyway, unless it was like polka or something.

“We’ll just need to reach out, contact some bands, see who’d be willing to play for a charity,” the prince said.

“I might be able to help there. I mean, I have a friend. He’d probably be willing to help out.”

“Oh that’s great.” Prince Philip smiled. “What’s his name? So we can have our people contact his?

“Nick,” Dan said before realizing that wasn’t enough information. “Uh, Nick Jonas.”

The prince leaned back, his eyes widening a bit. “Oh, really? Well, that _would_ be great.”

Dan bit his lip to stop the smile that as trying to spread on his face.

They talked about a few more things after that, and Dan couldn’t be certain what they meant, but there were these moments where it felt like Prince Philip was searching out his gaze, moments when their eyes met and would linger just long enough to make Dan lightheaded.

The prince’s assistant walked over and whispered something in Phil’s ear. “Right now, Penelope?”

His assistant nodded.

“Alright.” Prince Philip let out a breath as he stood. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Thank you all so much for coming.” With that, he walked with his assistant and bodyguard out of the room.

Dan hadn’t expected to deflate as much as he did. He wanted Prince Philip to come back. He wanted it so much he felt absolutely ridiculous. About half an hour later, when the meeting was over, Dan walked toward Emily, who was stood against the wall. Before he could get to her, she turned and walked outside through a different door than the one they’d come in.

 _What the fuck._ Dan wasn’t even sure they were supposed to be out this way. No one else seemed to be, but he just forged ahead and followed her.

Dan hurried to catch up. They were near a fountain when he touched Emily’s shoulder and she whipped toward him.

“Em, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah… okay,” he said disbelievingly.

She let out a breath and pursed her lips. “What were you doing in there?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I just… I can’t believe you did that.”

“Did _what?_ ”

Emily was nearly a foot shorter than Dan, but she straightened her back as if that would help even them out. “Used your friend to impress someone. Name dropping. It’s beneath you.”

Anger coiled through Dan. “I don’t fucking name drop.”

She looked back toward the palace and then at Dan. “You just did,” she said softly.

Dan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He technically had name dropped, but he wasn’t sure he’d just done it to impress the prince, even if he had wanted to. He had felt like it was a genuinely helpful offer, but now he was starting to feel bad about it. He _had_ fucking name dropped.

Emily just shook her head, looking disappointed in him, then turned away and walked off before he could even try to say anything else in his own defense.

Dan was left stood there, listening to the gentle pattering of the water in the fountain, suddenly totally off-balance and unsure of himself. Had he just made a total fool of himself for offering to have fucking Nick Jonas sing at a little charity thing? Did he look like a douche to not only the other people on the committee but to the prince? Would he look like an even bigger ass when he asked Nick—and what if Nick said no? Which he had every right to?

Any bit of high he’d felt seeing Prince Philip again had worn off. He started to walk off, toward the golden gate where some tourists were milling about on the other side when a dog barked, loud and startling. Dan yelped as he was plowed into by a very large English sheepdog. The air was knocked out of him as he landed flat on his back with a slobbery tongue licking at his face.

“Stop it. Sam. Oh _dear_. I’m so sorry, Daniel.” The voice was light and familiar. _The prince._

Dan pet at the dog’s ears, hoping a good pet might give the fella what he wanted so he’d calm down and at least let Dan up. It was a cute dog, a good dog, of course, but that didn’t mean this was position he wanted to be in in front of the prince.

Suddenly, the big dog was being leashed and pulled off him. Prince Philip scratched the dog’s head. “Sit down, you nutter.”

The dog listened, but he seemed rather put out by the whole thing. Like he was suffering an indignity being told to sit.

As Dan was trying to get back to his feet, the prince reached out his free hand. Dan stared at it, tensing all over. He was almost frightened to take his hand, though he knew he had to. It would be incredibly rude to refuse. Dan pressed his palm against Prince Philip’s cool skin and his throat tightened. The prince squeezed for balance and helped Dan to his feet.

“Thank you,” Dan said, their hands parting.

“Don’t thank me! I’m the one that got you practically mauled.”

Dan patted Sam’s head. “It was a very snuggly mauling.”

Sam’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, and then he flopped down on his side in the grass.

The prince smiled. “Still… he’s a tad incorrigible. Martyn was the only person who could ever get him to behave.” Phil’s face fell momentarily, like a shadow passing over, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Thank for you coming today.”

“It’s no problem.” Dan said. “I’m glad to be a part of all this. It’s important. I wish I would have known this stuff when I was in high school.”

“Me too. Don’t tell anyone, but I was known to anonymously get into some scuffles on the internet.”

Dan smiled. “Really?”

Prince Philip nodded. “When I said it was a good outlet, I meant it.”

“I absolutely can’t picture that. The prince, trolling online”

“I liked a good _Buffy_ chatroom.”

Dan’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding?”

“It would be less embarrassing if I was.”

Dan bit his lip, stepping a little closer, like this was a normal conversation. Not a conversation about online chatrooms with a prince. “Please tell me you had some ridiculous screen name. I need to know I wasn’t alone.”

“Oh, I did.” Prince Philip chuckled. “You ready for this? It was Snowdude.”

“No way.”

“I had a whole persona and everything. I was a fit American snowboarder.”

Fuck if that wasn’t the cutest fucking thing Dan had ever heard… He smiled. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you’d do in another life? Out there riding the slopes?” Why was this conversation happening? Why was it so easy to have?

“I reckon if my reaction the one time I tried to go skiing is any indication, then no. Unless alternate universe Phil is less clumsy than the one in this universe.”

Dan felt something warm inside him, like a hidden frozen part of himself he hadn’t even known he had just melted. It was something else to hear Prince Philip call himself clumsy and refer to himself as Phil. He couldn’t get over it. He didn’t want to.

“I’m sure Snowdude is out there somewhere in the multiverse winning Olympic gold medals.”

“Can you imagine?” Prince Philip smiled. “I wonder where you are in this universe… I know. You’re one of the BBC Olympic reporters.”

“And I interview you about the sick half pipe you did that won you the gold?”

Prince Philip got a distant, almost wistful, look on his face before saying, “Is there hot chocolate in this AU? Because if there is I’m sold. Just thinking about all that snow makes me want a hot chocolate. You know, with those little tiny marshmallows.”

Dan laughed and looked down at the grass under his shoes. He lifted his gaze back to Prince Philip, whose cheeks were rosy, but still pale in the grey, overcast light.

“How on earth did this conversation start again?” Dan asked.

The prince let out a laugh of his own, his tongue between his teeth. _Holy fuck, that’s adorable._ “We went on a wonderful journey of imagination. I say we don’t question it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, uh, Dan, before I go I was wondering… and feel free to say no if you’d rather my people just go through your people, but we’ll have a few things to work on before the first school presentation and I just thought maybe we could work on… I thought maybe you could give me your number and I could give you mine. It would be more streamlined.”

“Streamlined?” Dan blinked.

“Yeah. Streamlined,” the prince said, his voice lowering. “It’s okay, if you don’t want to—”

“No, that’s a good idea. It’s.. I mean, good thinking.”

The prince reached into his back pocket as Sam stood and sniffed around the ground, taking as much leeway with the leash as possible. He pulled out his phone and asked for Dan’s number. Dan recited it to him, and he smiled when he was finished.

“Thank you,” Prince Philip said. “I have to go, but I’ll text you. It was good seeing you again.”

Dan bit his lip. “You too, sir.”

Phil smiled, tucking his free hand in his pocket. He looked down, then back up at Dan, before giving his head a little shake and turning away, guiding Sam the Sheepdog along behind him.

Dan stood there, unable to move, on the lawns of Kensington Palace, just watching the shape of Prince Philip shrinking into the distance, the impossible absurdity of their conversation still echoing in his head.

 


	6. Chapter 6

When Dan got back to his flat, he’d fluctuated between giddiness and nervousness about sixteen times. Prince Philip had asked for his number, Prince Philip _had_ his number now. It didn’t mean he was going to use it, though. But _still_.

Dan had his key in the front door before he realized how weird it was that they’d had that whole conversation and neither one of them mentioned the pizza Prince Philip had sent him. Dan should have probably thanked him for it or something, right? He wasn’t sure the protocol on ‘thank you pizzas’, but now he had a bigger problem—or at least one of equal proportion—he had to ask Nick Jonas. Nick- _fucking_ -Jonas to sing at a school for a cyberbullying campaign.

“Nick,” Dan called out. “You still here?”

“Yup! In the kitchen.”

Dan walked around the corner into his kitchen. Nick was leaning over the counter, covered in flour. A pizza dough was rolled out in front of him and it was surrounded by a mess of empty jars and containers.

“What are you doing?”

“Making pizza,” Nick said, while sprinkling cheese.

“Okay…” Dan said warily. There really had been too much pizza weirdness in his life recently. He didn’t need more.

Nick turned towards Dan and smiled at him. He had flour all over his face and stuck in his stubble. “How’d it go?”

“Well, we learned I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Weren’t we already aware of that though?”

Dan shot him a glare, but then shook it off. Nick was going to be pissed at him so he had every right to drag Dan like that. “I did something really stupid and now I have to ask. I’m sorry and I’ll understand if you say no or like want to kick me in the balls or something.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?”

Dan rubbed at the back of his neck to work out some nervous energy. “So, like the Prince was there and he was sitting right next to me. Like we were on the same couch.”

Nick gasped. “The same couch? I hope you were wearing protection.”

“Nick.” Dan let out a sigh. “And so like we were all talking about the events we’re planning and shit, and it got brought up that we needed entertainment, and I’m such a twat and I wanted to impress the prince and I might have said that you were my friend and maybe you would sing at one of the events.”

“Okay…” Nick said, his brow furrowing. “What’s the asshole part?”

“I used you, Nick. I threw your name out there just to impress some guy.”

“Wait…” Nick went silent, and Dan just knew he was about to get shouted at. “You don’t normally use me to get laid?” Nick wasn’t shouting. His voice had stayed even.

“What?” Dan blinked in surprise. “Of course not. _What_?”

“I just figured… I mean I use _you_ to get laid.”

“In what universe would you need to use me to get laid?”

“Bro…” Nick licked some spaghetti sauce off his thumb. “I dated your manager for over a year.”

“Oh… so that’s all this friendship is about? The sex?” Dan’s lips tipped into a small smile as some of his nerves started to fade.

“Yep,” Nick said. “It’s over now. This is a goodbye-buddy pizza.”

“That’s fine, as long as it tastes good.”

Nick opened the oven and placed the pizza inside. He shut the oven door and looked back Dan. “Yes, by the way.”

“Yes, what?”

“I’ll sing at your thing.”

Dan’s eyes widened. “ _Really_?”

“You’re my best friend and you need my help. It’s a no brainer really. I’m happy to do it.”

“Hmm…” Dan felt like there was a bit of white noise in his mind. A symptom of Nick’s reaction being nothing like what he’d geared himself up for.

“You thought I was going to be mad,” Nick said. “Dan, who made you think I would be mad?”

Dan’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

Nick huffed. “Seriously.” He rolled his eyes. “She needs to mind her own business.”

“My business _is_ her business. That’s the definition of her business.”

Nick just shook his head. “Her business is telling you whatever is good for business isn’t actually good for business.”

“Can we stop saying business?”

“Look, Dan.” Nick sighed. “I’m your friend. Your _actual_ friend, you know that. You don’t pay me. I have no ulterior motives. If you need help, I want to help. I don’t care what Emily says or thinks about me.”

Dan thought for a moment. “I think maybe she just… maybe she isn’t ready to see you… I didn’t think about that.”

Nick’s face fell. “Right. Right… she’ll be there, won’t she?”

“Yeah.” Dan let out a breath. Nick and Emily hadn’t even been in the same room in like six months.

“I mean…” Nick bit his bottom lip. “I’ll have to get used to seeing her again, and she’ll have to do the same thing. You’re my best friend, at least until after we eat this pizza.”

Dan felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was an unknown number. He opened the text and his heart flipped.

_Just your friendly neighborhood prince saying thanks again for helping and for your number. And sorry for the dog pouncing incident._

A big grin broke out on his face, and a blush warmed his cheeks.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Nick asked.

“Nothing,” Dan replied too fast for it go unnoticed.

“That is not a nothing face.”

“It’s just a text.”

“From who?”

“Nobody.”

“I swear to God, Dan. I will throw pepperoni at you.”

“It’s the prince."

Nick eyes went wide—as wide as Dan had ever seen them. “The prince sent you a text.”

“Yeah… he, uh, we ran into each other after. His dog jumped on me… long story, but yeah. We talked for a little, and then he asked for my number so we could streamline the work for the event.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Streamline?”

“Yes, streamline.”

“He’s into you,” Nick said. “You know that right.”

Dan snorted. “You’re insane. He wanted my number for work.”

Nick did air quotes. “Work.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. You asked me for my number once, remember?”

“Yeah and, consider, I saw you naked just this morning.”

“Nick.” Dan huffed. “It’s really just work, okay? He’s a nice guy, and I mean, it’s not a secret that I think he’s an attractive person. But he just wants to work with me. That’s all.”

“Uh, huh. Okay.” Nick put his hands up in feigned surrender. “Whatever you say.”

Dan frowned, but there wasn’t any actual anger in it. “I’m going to go shower and change. And then you’re going to feed me pizza.”

As he walked away, Dan looked down at the text on his phone again.

_Just your friendly neighborhood prince saying thanks again for helping and for your number. And sorry for the dog pouncing incident._

Dan bit his lip and began to type. He had to reply, right? He wanted to, didn’t he? Yeah, he definitely wanted to.

Dan: that’s okay. i have to forgive you because you bought me a pizza.

He hesitated but then pressed send. That was a good text, right? It was funny and he got the pizza weirdness out of the way.

He took his clothes off for his shower and just before he was about to hop in, he noticed another new message from the same unknown number.

_i did do that. was that weird? sorry if that was weird._

Dan: not weird. though I’m a little embarrassed. you obviously saw my tweet.

Dan turned on the water, then looked back at his phone, just staring down at the messages he’d been sent. He needed to add the number, but he didn’t want to just put in Prince Philip, in case he lost his phone or someone saw the text pop up. He started to add the number. He typed in Philip. But even that was a little conspicuous, so he deleted the ip. _Phil._ That felt right.

Dan was about to the step in the water, when he heard his phone buzz on his bathroom countertop. Another text. This time the phone told him it was from _Phil_.

Phil: I’m not entirely sure what a Pizza Hut Daddy is, but I hope I was a good one.

Dan flushed hard. He felt it start in his cheeks and move down his chest. Even the vaguest connection between the prince and daddy had his thoughts being bodily thrown back into 2012. That was not where he wanted to be.

The shower water was rushing in the background, and he had to think of a text quick.

Dan: don’t worry, sir. you were the best pizza hut daddy.

He pressed send and immediately regretted it. _Fuck. Fucking fuck._

Dan stood there biting his lip, but he didn’t receive an immediate response. With a sick feeling churning in his stomach, Dan hopped into the shower and hoped the hot water could wash away the growing shame. It didn’t.

He got out of the shower a few minutes later and towel-dried. Eventually, he plucked up the courage to see if the prince had replied. He had. Dan tensed as he opened it. Prince Philip had sent a long string of pizza emojis and then,

Phil: was it a good pizza though?

Relief washed over Dan, followed by something else. Something fluttery and warm that he was afraid to name.

Dan: is there bad pizza? i always felt like pizza was like dogs and there were only good ones.

Phil didn’t respond for a few minutes, but when he did it was with a picture of none pizza with left beef.

Dan: wow, congratulations. you’ve found the world’s oldest meme.

_Don’t insult him you fucking moron._

Phil: I’m like the Indiana Jones of memes.

Dan wrapped his towel around himself, only now realizing that he’d technically been talking to the prince of the whole damn country while he was naked, which was weird, which was not something he needed to think about at all.

Dan: my friend is in for singing at the event, by the way.

Phil: I can’t believe you got Nick Jonas to agree.

This just made Dan laugh.

Dan: are you some kind of nick jonas stan?

_The prince is not going to know what a stan is, you idiot._

Phil: I stan anyone who sings about cake.

 _Oh my God_. Dan had to resist the urge to run immediately downstairs to rub it in Nick’s face that the prince had confused him with his brother.

Dan: i mean… not to uh burst your cake bubble, but that is technically his brother joe.

Dan: but i’m willing to force him to sing about cake or whatever pastry you would like

Dan walked back into his bedroom and threw on a t-shirt and his Game of Thrones pajamas.

Phil: Yes, by royal decree, he may only sing songs about dessert.

Dan: this changes the whole trajectory of his career.

A longer stretch of time passed before the prince finally replied again.

Phil: Seriously, Dan. Thanks for helping out. I have to go into a meeting now. :’( Be sure to text me with any ideas for the campaign.

Dan: Thanks, sir. I will. Have a good meeting.

Dan gave himself one stolen moment, to let out a breath and fall back onto his bed. A big smile pulled across his face. What the hell had just happened?

Eventually, he got past it and gathered himself up to go back downstairs. He could smell the garlic baking.

“Pizza’s almost done,” Nick called out. He was sitting on the couch playing a game on Dan’s Xbox. In the corner of the room, Dan noticed a suitcase. It wasn’t his… it had to be Nick’s.

Dan sat down beside Nick and nudged his shoulder. Then, he pointed at the suitcase. “You’ve taken make yourself at home to a whole different level.”

“Uh, yeah, well, I was just thinking. I probably should’ve asked, but I think I might be in town for a while and it seemed pointless to get a hotel. I mean, we don’t see each other that much anyway.”

“You’re free to crash here,” Dan said. “But if anyone breaks in, it’s your job to subdue the intruder while I call the police.”

“I mean I’m almost certain I’ll be immediately killed but okay.”

“With those quads I doubt it.”

Nick snorted. “What am I going to do? Throw my legs around the guy’s neck and strangle him to death with my thighs?”

“I can think of worse ways to die.”

The timer buzzed and Nick went to get the pizza. He sliced it up and it was nice to eat something that wasn’t take-away and certainly nice to eat something hadn’t managed to put together himself. He was still scarred from his pasta burning experience at uni.

“Thank again for agreeing to sing at the thing,” Dan said as he swallowed a bite of Nick’s pizza.

“No problem, man.”

“I also wanted to inform you because it’s my job as your best friend to occasionally drag you, but the prince totally confused you with Joe.”

Nick snorted. “See you think you’re dragging me but the idea that the prince has even the remotest idea who I am or who my brother is is astounding all on its own.” Nick gave Dan a strange look. “Wait… did he say this to your earlier and you’re just telling me now? Or did he text you this? And that’s why you’re only telling me now? Did you keep texting?”

Dan sighed. “I replied to his text. We had a _work_ conversation.”

“So, all you talked about was work stuff?” Nick said. “When he asked for your number and like now?”

“Not…not exactly,” Dan said. “It’s just like polite conversation.”

“Is that all you want it to be? Polite conversation?”

“Didn’t we already talk about this?”

“I’m just curious! If he was like ‘hey Dan, wanna bang it out?’ would you?”

“ _Nick.”_ Dan rolled his eyes. “Be serious.”

“Why do we have to be serious? I just want to know, like in your wildest fantasies would you say ‘yes’?”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “To banging it out with the prince?… I don’t know.” He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he could do that. Just have sex with Prince Philip and move on with his life like nothing happened at all. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had casual sex before but this was different somehow.

“Okay, then. What about… would you go out with him if he asked? Like on a proper date?”

Dan snorted. “What kind of drugs did you do while I was gone?” He couldn’t even imagine it. The prince asking him out on a date… although a lot of other things he couldn’t imagine had already happened. Like the prince asking for his number and then having text banter with him. Still… this was too far. Too much to even consider in a hypothetical.

“I don’t know why you think this is so impossible. Even the prince has to date, and you’re like… how do you guys say it? Fit?”

“I’m not saying I’m ugly or anything, but that’s not at all the point.”

“You’d seriously say no if he asked you out for coffee or something?”

“Why are we even talking about this?”

“For fun.”

“Of course, I’d say yes. He’s gorgeous and I like him and I’m not a fucking idiot, but it’s never going to happen so I don’t know why we’re talking about it.” There was a edge in his voice. He could hear it as much as he could feel the unexpected, rising anger.

“Am I really upsetting you, Dan… I didn’t realize I was—”

“It’s fine.” Dan shook his head and stared down at the crust of his pizza. “I don’t know why it’s bothering me.”

“Do you want me to stop talking about it or do you want to talk about it bothering you?”

Dan looked up at Nick, looking back at him and smiled softly. “I think it’s just shit from when I was younger coming back up. I’ve got to figure out how to actually work with this guy without activating the side of my brain that is, you know, really into him. This is a good opportunity. I can’t fuck it up.”

“I get it man,” Nick said. “I’ll stop fucking with you about it.”

“Thanks.”

After dinner, they sat on the sofa and watched _Riverdale,_ though neither one of them really liked it all that much, then they played some video games and when it was hard to keep their eyes open, they dragged their asses up to bed. They were lying beside each other in the dark, when Dan decided to ask Nick a question to make up for all the questions Nick had asked him.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” Dan whispered.

“About what?”

“Why you’re here?”

“I told you.” Nick yawned. “Better than a hotel. Get to spend time with you.”

“I don’t mean here. I mean London. Why… why aren’t you with your girlfriend?”

There was a long moment of silence. “I don’t know.”

Dan didn’t ask anything else after that. He just turned on his side, facing away from Nick. He saw his phone screen light up and reached over for it.

Phil: I had an idea about the school event. I’ll run it by you in the morning. I’m exhausted. Just wanted to tell you now, so you could remind me.

Dan smiled, that same fluttery feeling rising in his chest again. He ignored it to reply as simply and professionally as he could.

Dan: thanks! i won’t let you forget


	7. Chapter 7

 

The next morning when Dan woke up Nick was gone. He had a text from him saying that he had to do something work-related and he’d probably be back around lunch.

As he was reading that text, Dan remembered what had happened just before he’d gone to bed. Prince Philip had texted him, and asked him to remind him that he’d an idea.

Dan: good morning, sir. so you were saying you had an idea? and you wanted me to remind you. so um this is me reminding you.

It took just a few moments before a reply came through.

Phil: I did?

Dan: yeah… not sure what it was about.

Phil: lol me either

Dan didn’t know why Prince Philip saying ‘lol’ made him smile so widely but he could feel the grin tugging almost painfully at his lips.

Phil: i still haven’t woken up fully yet. maybe i’ll remember once i do.

Dan was starting to type when he noticed the three dots that meant Prince Philip was typing pop up again. Before he could get out his response, Dan got another reply from the prince.

It was a picture—a selfie.

Dan nearly dropped his phone.

Prince Philip was sat in what looked like an empty but cozy coffee shop. His hair was quiffed, but a little messy and his glasses were slid a bit down his nose. He had a hand wrapped around a to-go cup of coffee, and he was doing an exaggerated frown.

God, he was fucking gorgeous.

Dan: ah, i see. maybe the caffeine will help.

Phil: If I asked coffee to marry me, do you think it would say yes?

Dan grinned. Prince Philip was funny. The world should get to know that Prince Philip was funny, but a selfish part of Dan was glad he had this little piece of him that most of the world did not. Dan wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but decided on bantering back. That was what he’d do if he were talking to anyone else.

Dan: i think if you married a bean, it would cause quite a scandal.

Phil: But is our love strong enough to overcome the scrutiny of the British people? That’s the question we are all asking ourselves.

Dan snorted. Ridiculous. Wonderful. He couldn’t stop himself from adding to it.

Dan: the phil/coffee fic. read it on ao3 today

Dan rolled his eyes at himself. _Like the fucking future king knows what fic or ao3 is. Way to be awkward._

Phil: Rated E. Warning: Graphic Violence. Tags: #pining, #slow burn, #friends to lovers, #vore

Dan let out a loud snort. Loud enough he probably the woke his neighbor. _What the fuck?_ This couldn’t be real… Prince Philip could not have possibly sent him this. Vore? _Double fuck._

Dan: you are just a basket of surprises.

Phil: Get a basket. Get some surprises. Put the surprises in the basket. Give it a good shake. That’s a recipe for a Phil.

Phil: I may have had an excessive amount of caffeine.

Dan: that seems likely.

Phil: So, uh, ignore anything past or future I may say about vore. It’s the coffee talking. What are you up to today?

Dan smiled. He still couldn’t believe this was real. He really, really couldn’t. Why would Prince Philip want to talk to him, just send him pointless texts and ask how his day was going? It just didn’t make sense, but it was happening.

Dan: i actually have a meeting at google.

Phil: Is that where vloggers are born?

Dan: yes, there’s a birthing hole in the basement.

Phil: Birthing hole. Not words I thought I’d hear before 8 am, but here we are.

Dan: i’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine, mr. vore.

This was ridiculous, Dan thought, as he struggled out of bed. Why was it so easy to talk to this man? Why did he want to say he was sick and not go to that Google meeting at all? He had to go...he knew it, but that didn’t mean, his mind would be there.

Phil: Here’s to hoping that nickname doesn’t stick. When’s your meeting?

Dan: in like an hour. i’m running v late. it’s how i do.

Phil: I’ll stop distracting you. Have fun visiting Mother Google, and while you’re there I’ll try to remember what my sleep deprived brain thought was so important last night.

Dan smiled as he looked down at his phone on the bed while he tried to wrangle himself into a pair of black, ripped jeans. He tugged on his grey and black jumper—the one that Anthony Padilla thought made him look like a depressed hockey player—and ruffled his hair. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. _Not too bad,_ he thought, _for getting ready in five minutes._

A thought crossed his mind. Maybe he should take a picture like the prince did and send it to him. _That would be weird… or would it be fair?_ Prince Philip had sent him a picture after all.

Shoving down his nerves and any part of him who thought this was a bad idea, Dan stood in front of his silver mirror and took a selfie. Well, he took like twelve selfies and picked the best one. He looked good in it, but not like he was trying to look _that_ good. He had an awkward smile and held up a peace sign.

Dan sent the pic to the prince.

Dan: i call this look ‘dressed in five minutes to go sit in a meeting where people talk about me like i’m not there’

Phil: Dan, I just call that Tuesday. :P

Phil: Also, I like your jumper.

Dan’s stomach flipped over and a smile curled onto his face. He couldn’t believe that Phil had actually sent him that. _Him._ But he was probably just being nice and didn’t mean anything by it, right?

Eventually, Dan managed to reply with nothing but ‘thanks’ even though he had a strong urge to say a bunch of self-deprecating stuff. But, honestly, he didn’t want to point out his flaws to Prince Philip. It wouldn’t take long for him to find those on his own.

It was close, but Dan did get to the Google meeting on time. It was him and a few other YouTubers, some of whom had a brought their assistants along. Dan couldn’t imagine having an assistant—like what would they do for him? Hold his camera? Watch him lie face first on the floor for hours? Though, come to think of it an extra set of hands would make some of sketches easier to do…

Louise showed up a little after he did, and tugged a chair up next to him. “Hi,” she whispered.

He gave her a tight smile and a quiet ‘hey’ as the meeting leader had started to speak.

Normally, Dan did try to participate and add his thoughts to these things. It was why he kept getting invited back, but today, his mind was elsewhere and he found himself doing something absolutely ridiculous. Something only a total idiot would do. Something he would almost certainly be regretting the minute he did it. He did it anyway. He texted the prince for no reason at all.

Dan: why is half of adulthood meetings?

Much to his shock, Prince Philip responded almost immediately.

Phil: Do you go to that many meetings?

Dan: a surprising amount for someone who doesn’t have a real job.

Phil: Actually same though.

Dan: i’ve had a real job. i worked at asda. it sucked balls. so, here’s to fake jobs that still pay the rent.

_Oh my fucking God. I just said suck balls to the prince. What the everliving fuck is wrong with me?_

Dan: you probably don’t pay rent, though.

He added that in hopes it would distract from what he’d said before.

Phil: i did during uni.

Dan: you’re a real man of the people, sir ;)

Louise elbowed him. “Dan,” she hissed. “Pay attention.”

“Hmm… what?” He looked up from the phone in his lap, his body jerking with the movement.

The phone slid off his legs and hit Louise’s feet. She bent down to pick it up.

“No, wait,” Dan said, bristling with inner panic.

But she had already grabbed the phone, and was picking it up. Dan tried to grab it from her before she saw the screen, but her face fell and her eyes went wide, so Dan knew it was too late. He still snatched the phone quickly from her hand anyway.

“Is everything alright you two?” the meeting presenter said—a tall Google employee whose name Dan didn’t remember because he’d never met her before and he was kind of distracted today..

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dan managed. “Sorry.”

“Alright,” she said, eyeing them skeptically, “Let’s talk about some changes to our terms and conditions.”

When the meeting was over, Dan tried to get out of there as quickly as possible, hoping that if he practically ran, Louise would just let him be without hounding him with questions he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. It was a futile hope because, despite being very pregnant, she was surprisingly quick.

At the end of the hall, she grabbed Dan’s arm. “Not so fast, mate.”

“What?”

“You know what. _Phil…_ as in… is this for real?”she asked, her loud voice making Dan nervous.

Dan looked around for somewhere private to go, saw a janitor’s closet and dragged Louise inside it. He tugged on a string which flipped on a jittery lightbulb and shut the door.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said. “You can’t tell anyone. It’s just business.”

Louise’s eyes narrowed. “You dragged me into a janitor’s closet for just business?”

Dan sighed. “Look, I just don’t want it getting spread around, okay? He asked me for my number so we could work on the things for the campaign, and I don’t know if he’s done the same with other people. It’s not a big deal, but still.”

“How can this be not a big deal for you?”

“Because. It’s an incredible opportunity and I’m an adult, and I can handle it, okay?”

She pressed her lips together and let out an audible breath through her nose. “Those texts didn’t seem like business.”

“God, you read quickly.”

“It’s a gift.” Louise cleared her throat. “It’s just I know you and I know that this is actually a big deal to you. You might be able to pretend it’s not with other people but I know it is.”

“ _Louise_ —"

“When’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”

He shook his head. “What the hell does that have to do with—”

“ _Dan_ ,” she said, mimicking him.

Dan rolled his eyes. “It’s been a few months. So what?”

“Try six months and do you even remember the person’s name?”

“Yeah… yes… it was… um…” He used to have some normal dates and then he started focusing on his mental health recovery and so he never really felt like he could settle down into anything serious.

“You really shouldn’t have to think about it this hard, Dan.”

“Lacey. Her name was Lacey,” he said, proudly.

“Jesus Christ, Dan. No it wasn’t. Her name was Tracey.”

“Oh… right. What’s your point, again?” Dan knew her point. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t know her point.

“My point is that you’ve never been serious about anyone. I’ve never seen you moon-eyed over anyone at all, not in years. Not Lacey-Tracey, not Rebecca, not Lucas, not one of three different Brads.”

“I’m not dating Prince Philip. I’m working with him and texting him. It’s not a big deal.”

“I’m just… I’m worried about you. You created him back then as this like figment of your imagination to survive being really fucking scared and lonely and confused about your sexuality. So forgive me if I’m worried you’re going to let that cloud your judgement… I saw those texts. I saw how you were talking to him.”

Dan bristled. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. “I think the only person with a clouded judgement here is you.” Dan was done listening to this. He could do whatever he wanted. He was a grown man and Louise was not his mother.

As Dan went to step through the door, Louise’s voice softened, “You need Prince Philip, Dan. Your idea of him. What happens when he’s just a regular, mundane, flawed person and that lifeline you built for yourself is gone?”

He turned back toward her and gave her a small smile. “I haven’t needed that in a long time. I’m better now. I got better.”

She looked down. “I know.”

“And I know it was scary. Jesus, I know it was, and I’m sorry for all the times that I scared you, but you know it’s different now. You know I’m better now, and this is too good of an opportunity to turn my back on it because of a silly crush I had _five_ years ago.”

Well, five years ago was the peak of it. He’d clung on here and there ever since.

After a moment, Louise nodded. “Okay.”

Dan walked out of the janitor’s closet, out of Google and took the underground home. He hesitated, but looked at his phone anyway.

Phil: When’s your meeting over?

Dan: i’m out now. sorry I stopped replying. i got scolded by the teacher.

Phil: Did you get detention?

Dan: got off with a warning. how’s your day been so far? did you remember what you forgot?

Phil: No. Ugh. My day has been the same as usual. Except, my mum is on me about exercise again. She keeps reading NHS reports about the health benefits of jogging.

Dan: no, never jog. even at the queen’s request. it’s the worst. try yoga, aerobics—like look up some old richard simmons on yt—do some crunches and press-ups. never go outside.

Phil: Oh, are you like into fitness?

He’d considered not saying anything, but it would literally take two seconds for Prince Philip to find his video ‘Daniel and Depression’ or to know that he’s an ambassador for YoungMinds UK. He probably already did.

Dan: hahaha no. more like into depression recovery

Phil: Working out helps?

Dan: sleep, work-out, hydrate, get dragged out of the house by friends.

Unlike he’d been doing, the prince didn’t immediately reply. Dan was walking from the underground back to his flat when the next text came.

Phil: Speaking of the thing I couldn’t remember and you getting dragged out of the house. The event planning is kind of hard to discuss over text. It’s complex. So maybe I could drag you out of the house sometime. For an informal meeting before the event.

Dan’s heart flipped. He couldn’t believe Prince Philip wanted another meeting. Was it just the two of them? Was it everyone in the committee? Before Dan could reply, he got another message from Phil.

Phil: Want to discuss it over coffee?

 _Yes._ But Dan wanted to seem cool and funny, not over enthusiastic.

Dan: are you inviting me to your wedding?

_Super cool. Totally nailed it._

Phil: :P

Phil: we can do lunch, if you prefer, I mean if you want be dragged outside for work at all by me that is.

Dan: Coffee sounds good, sir. When?

_Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God._

Phil: Great! I have to go to the states for a few days but I get back Friday. There’s a little cafe that let’s me in before opening. So like at 5 in the morning. Which I know is really early, but it’s a logistical thing.

The banter had worked so far and it just came naturally to Dan so he went with it.

Dan: if i have to be there at 5 am, there better be unlimited coffee.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, Dan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He’d assumed it was Nickasking to be let in after his morning run, but it wasn’t. It was Phil, and it was a GIF of a woman doing an elaborate Olympic vault routine.

Dan: uh… did you mean this for me?

Phil: Yeah, that’s me trying to dodge the Trump administration while I’m in D.C.

A laugh fell out of Dan’s lips. He couldn’t help the immediate, giddy warmth he felt whenever he talked to Phil.

Dan: lmao you don’t actually have to meet with any of them, do you?

Phil: No. I’m under explicit instructions from Her Majesty The Queen to ‘actively and proactively avoid any and all interaction or fraternization with any individual involved in the Trump administration’

Phil: She sent me a memo this morning

Dan: lol your mum sent you a memo?

Phil: She also texted me a picture of hedgehog

That was adorable, even if it was really hard to picture Queen Kathryn texting. _No._ He couldn’t be thinking about Prince Philip as adorable. That was one hundred percent not allowed.

Dan: so why are you across the pond anyway?

Phil: Annual Charity Gala thing for underprivileged youth. I might check out some bald eagles, and I’m definitely going to consume an unhealthy amount of American pancakes.

Dan: yes. i always hit up an ihop whenever I’m in the states.

Phil: Never been.

Dan: find one. try it. you won’t regret it. enjoy america, sir!

Phil just replied with like ten laugh-cry emojis.

Dan: What?

Phil sent that gif of Dan with the American flag around his shoulders doing a little shimmy.

Dan: oh my god.

Phil: I was searching for an America-themed gif, and this brilliance came up. You’re in the gif search, Dan.

Dan: uggggggghhhh

He had so much blackmail material from his yearly q&a videos.

Phil: I’m going to text this to everyone I know. If they ask me where I am, I will reply with nothing but this gif.

Dan: if you were here, i’d physically fight you.

Phil: Good luck getting past all my bodyguards.

Dan just sent him the same gif of the olympic vault routine that had started this whole conversation and the word ‘me’.

 

Dan spent the rest of the day and most of the next totally buried in planning for the upcoming event. He’d locked himself away in his office and made phone calls to schools, scribbled down notes and ideas, tossed them out, reorganized them, scribbled down more and tossed them out again. Nick had had some interviews both days, so he barely saw him, though he couldn’t imagine it would have been much different even if Nick didn’t have anything to do. When Dan got into one of these work zones, it was nearly impossible to drag him back out of it until he was ready.

He was interrupted, however, by a phone call from his grandma, and he spent much of the time trying to direct attention away from the questions she kept asking about what it had been like to meet the prince. He wasn’t sure how she’d take information that they’d been talking more or that Dan had been asked to do so much and work so closely with Prince Philip on the project, so he tried to distract her. No conversation had ever held so many questions about sudoku and Sunday school.

Eventually, when he was so thirsty and his tongue was so dry it felt like sandpaper, he dragged his ass out of his office and back into the living room. He poured a large glass of water and plopped down on the couch, going against his instincts and forcing himself to drink water and rest.

Dan turned on the TV and scrolled through the cable guide until he decided on watching the news. At least this way, he could feel like he was still doing something while he was relaxing.

He took a sip of the water as he leaned back and just stared at the colorful lights and faces of the BBC news station. It was just the normal new from the day—a pile up on the road, a bit about a local MP, the weather, but then it was _him._ Prince Philip on his television screen, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise, shouldn’t have felt new but it did. Dan scooted forward, his heart beating a little faster.

The prince was wearing a well-tailored black suit with a a blue tie that made the matching color in his eyes stand out, even on the television. He had a sheepish smile on his face and his hair pushed back. There were cameras going off all around him, and it wasn’t an Oscar red carpet or anything, but it had that vibe of being special—that vibe of being set apart because society had decided they mattered. Prince Philip didn’t give off that same vibe though. He seemed out of place, his shoulders drawn in as if he were trying to make himself look smaller so that the others had more space. Dan could barely explain the warmth he felt in his chest at that moment.

But that warmth was almost immediately torn away, replaced by an ice cold rush. A woman walked up beside Phil—a beautiful blonde woman with a long lean neck and striking red lips.She put her hand on Phil’s back and Dan felt the floor drop out from under him.

He immediately grabbed the remote control and turned off the telly. Then, he chucked the remote onto the sofa. When Dan turned around and away fro the screen, Nick was standing there. Dan gasped and jumped back. He hadn’t heard Nick come in.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Dan said, his voice sharp-edged.

“Sorry, man.” Nick furrowed his brow. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Dan tried to sound nonplussed, but he knew it wasn’t working. He had a feeling Nick may have even seen what Dan had so abruptly turned off.

His eyes cast toward the telly, then back to Dan. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Dan said. “I want to go for a run.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You coming or not.”

“Yeah, I just gotta change.”

“Me too,” Dan said, then walked faster than normal up to his bedroom.

As he pulled off his clothes, he kept telling himself that he wasn’t really jealous. He was just angry at himself for feeling the way he did when he saw that woman touch the prince. He shouldn’t have felt anyway at all and he still shouldn’t feel a little nauseated thinking of it again. _No._ Running was the worst thing in the world, but it was so bad it would push everything else away.

He pulled on a torn t-shirt, old joggers and trainers and then met Nick by the door.

“Ready?” Nick asked, his gaze narrowed.

“Yup.” Dan threw open the door. He needed to get outside, needed to get that heart rate up, needed to be in his body and not his head.

 

They’d ran at least mile so far and they were tucked under a row of trees near the park. The sun was starting to dip, so the sky was lavender and much too pretty for the feeling still prickling beneath Dan’s skin. He was sticky with sweat. It was rolling down his neck and his sides. His calves ached and so did his sides. Dan rarely ran, especially not on the street where people could see his noodle body flailing about, but it was working—almost working—to keep his stupid fucking thoughts at bay.

“It’s getting kind of dark,” Nick said, softly. “You think maybe we should head home.”

“I kind of want to keep running. But you go ahead and go back.” Dan stopped to reach into his pocket for the flat key to give to Nick.

Nick put a hand on his wrist. “Dan.”

Dan sighed. “What?”

“I saw what was on the TV.”

“I don’t know what you thought you saw—”

“Some blonde with her hands all over your prince.”

Dan’s cheeks went hot. “Nick.”

“I’m not trying to be a shit, okay? I’m just checking on you, you know as bros do.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t think I realized…” Maybe he shouldn’t admit this to Nick, but what the hell? “Like I didn’t realize I was getting a bit of a crush until I felt, you know, pointlessly jealous. So, I’m a little mad at myself because I was being stupid.” Dan let out a breath. “I’m glad I saw it though. Needed to nip that one in the bud.”

“Right.” Nick smiled at Dan, his hand still on his wrist. It slid down and he took Dan’s hand in his. “Can we get some Wagamamas or something? I’m starving.”

“Yeah. Running sucks,” Dan said.

“It really does.”

Dan took a few steps still holding Nick’s hand. He didn’t feel anything, of course, but it was nice to have that bit of human connection—though this wasn’t the best idea they’d ever had.

“You can’t hold my hand out here, Nick.”

“Jesus, you sound like Em.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“You’re right.” Nick let go of his hand. “We’d have a hell of a time explaining that to the dick shippers.”

“We were just…holding hands…platonically. Platonic bro hand holding,” Dan said, dramatically.

Nick laughed. “But we _were._ ”

“We’ve also been platonically sleeping in the same bed, _and_ you platonically saw my penis.” Now, Dan was laughing too. He pulled his phone out. “Hey, I know… you want to do some dick fan service? The lighting is great. It will probably hide how disgusting we look.”

Dan used his extra long arm to hold the phone out in front of them. They leaned in together, the purple sky and the trees behind them. Dan took a few and when he was satisfied, he posted it with the caption:

a sunset dick pic

 

They took the food home and ate it on the sofa, watching a _Friends_ marathon they’d found on the telly. Then, they fought over who got to take a shower first. Dan played the “this is _my_ house” card, which got him the first shower, but it also got him Nick sneaking in and flushing the toilet on him.

Dan was shot with a cold stream of water and shrieked. “Fucking hell!” He tried to jump out of the way of the freezing water. “Nick! I swear to God.”

The only response Dan got was the sound of Nick laughing.

Once he got out of the shower, Nick hopped in and made sure to lock the door so Dan couldn’t get him back—and Dan did try. After that, they both got ready for bed and climbed under the covers.

It was strange having Nick there, and not being alone in bed. Dan had pretty much always slept alone, and he felt a wave of sadness wash over him. He liked this. Not Nick really but _this._ The not being alone. The someone in his bed, and he even though he wasn’t alone tonight, it was the first time in a long time he felt truly lonely. Dan wanted it, he suddenly realized. He’d put off a real relationship to focus on his mental health, on figuring out his own shit, but now he knew he wanted it, all of it. Wanted to have someone in his bed he could lean over and kiss, someone he could call baby, someone he could love.

The image of Prince Philip rose in his mind and Dan shoved it down and away as fast as he possibly could. He couldn’t live in fantasyland anymore. That was all the prince could ever be to Dan—a fantasy. Maybe tomorrow he’d text Louise. She always had a friend she wanted to set him up with.

Dan plugged in his phone and set it on the nightstand.

“Ready to turn off the light?” Nick asked.

Dan yawned. “Yeah, it’s on your side.”

The lights in the room went off, and Dan felt Nick shift beside him. Dan always had trouble falling to sleep so he laid there in the dark silence, trying to focus his mind on something other than his anxious thoughts. He tried to count, to recall scripts from old videos, anything flat and repetitious. Dan was feeling himself drifting to sleep when there was a buzz on his nightstand and a bright light shining in the room.

Nick startled up beside him, and Dan grabbed at his phone to see who was calling. His stomach dropped.

“Who the fuck is it at this time a night?” Nick asked, blearily.

“It’s… it’s the prince,” Dan said, disbelievingly.

“Oh my God. Answer it.”

“It’s probably a butt dial.”

“Just shut up and answer it,” Nick hissed.

Dan shot him a glare, though he couldn’t see it in the dark, and answered the phone.

“Hello?” Dan barely managed through his nerves.

“H-hey? Dan?” It was the prince’s voice, and he was actually asking for Dan.

Throat tight, heart pounding, Dan slid out of bed. “Yeah, hi.” _Yeah, hi? Really? What kind of response is that?_

Nick made kissy noises at Dan, and Dan grabbed the duvet on the bed and yanked it off Nick.

“Hey!” Nick whined, scrambling to pull the covers back over him.

“Oh, sorry,” Prince Philip said. “I didn’t realize that you… weren’t alone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just Nick.”

Dan slipped out of the bedroom door and into the hallway.

“And god, it’s late there,” the prince said. “I probably woke you up.”

“Was in bed… not asleep though. It’s totally fine.” Dan blinked a few times. He was still a little out of it, between how tired he was and the total shock of the prince having called him. “Woke Nick up, but honestly, he deserved it."

“Oh… I didn’t realize you and him were…”

It took Dan a moment before he realized what the prince was saying and how he’d gotten to that conclusion. “No, no. He’s just… we’re friends. He’s straight, and just crashing at mine. What can I do for you anyway?”

“Nothing. I just… I’m about to eat those pancakes you told me about.”

Dan yawned against as he made his way down the hall to the lounge. “Are you at IHOP right now?”

“No. Apparently, it’s a security risk and I could be assassinated at any moment.”

“In an IHOP?”

“Who knows what happens in America.” He sighed. “My assistant went and picked them up for me.”

“What kind did you get?” Dan asked, as he sat down at the sofa. Was he already dreaming? Maybe that’s what was going on. This whole pancake conversation with the prince was just a byproduct of a REM cycle.

“Chocolate chocolate chip. I think the Americans might be confused between a pancake and just regular cake.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

The prince just replied with a strange muffled sound.

“Sir?”

“Sorry. Muh mouths full.” There was a moment of quiet before his voice was clear again. “I take it back. Eleven out of ten for Americans adding an enormous amount of sugar to everything.”

It seemed like he was trying to make a light joke, but it fell a little flat. The prince had seemed off this whole time, not that Dan knew him well enough to say that for certain, but he followed his instinct anyway. “Sir, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Dan,” he sounded so sincere.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, gently.

There was a long pause and Dan thought he’d fucked up, but finally Phil replied, “Yeah, I’m… I just had a… I don’t know if YouTubers do this. Maybe they don’t, but… have you ever done Make-a-Wish?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied. “I do it a few times a year usually.”

“I don’t do it that often. Not many people ask, but I had one today. A little girl in Virginia. She was six and she wanted to meet a ‘real-live prince’.”

Dan felt a warm flutter in his heart, and he was too tired to think to stop himself. “That was a really nice of you.”

“I’m glad I could. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much. I visit children in hospitals quite often, and it’s always hard but…”

“But sometimes it’s harder?” Dan replied, quietly. It was odd, but Dan did know what he meant. There were just days when you couldn’t get the kid out of your head afterwards, and everything just felt wrong.

“It’s harder now… you know? Ever since Martyn and we just, we had a tea party. Right there in hospital. The nurses brought in tea they’d made in their lounge microwave.” The prince let out a broken breath. “She probably won’t even see her next birthday.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

The prince sniffed. “Shit.” He sniffed again. “What am I doing? I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have called you. We barely know each other.”

“It’s okay,” Dan said easily. “I don’t mind.”

“So,” the prince cleared his throat, “How are you? How was your day?”

 _This is so fucking weird._ “It was fine, I guess. Got some work done, went for a jog—”

“You told me no one should jog under any circumstance.”

Dan cheeks burned as he smiled. He had said that, and the prince had remembered. “Well, sir, I give great advice, though I’m not very good at following it.”

The prince let out a soft laugh. “Well, it still sounds like you had a better day than me. I’d rather jog than talk to a ballroom full of well-dressed strangers.”

“A mood.”

“What?”

“It’s… nothing. Sorry. So, are you done with well-dressed strangers then, at least?”

“No, I don’t get back until Friday and my schedule is packed with strangers.” Prince Philip let out a breath. “Martyn was so much better at this than me.”

“I don’t know, sir. Every time you’ve met you’ve been easy to talk to.”

“You’re… that’s different.”

Dan tucked his legs up onto the sofa. He refused to read into what the prince had just said. Refused. “Just pretend everyone you meet is me, then. Instead of a well-dressed stranger, it’s just a sad nerd on the internet.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

The prince hesitated. “Sad?”

“I mean… it’s just my old friend serotonin deficiency.” God, Dan wanted to change the subject. “We still on for that coffee when you get back? To discuss the school event?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, if you are,” Prince Philip said, quietly, hesitantly, as if Dan might turn him down. _As if._ It was pretty unbelievable.

“Definitely.”

“Does Sunday morning work for you? I reckon I’ll be very jet lagged on Saturday.”

“Sunday works great. I’ll bring what I’ve been working on.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate your help. You’ve been a life-saver with this campaign.”

Dan felt another surge of warmth. “It’s no problem. I’m just happy I can help.”

“Well, it’s late there and I should probably let you get back to sleep. Sorry to bother you.”

“Don’t be,” Dan said. “At all.”

“Good night, Dan,” Phil said, faintly.

“Good night, Sir,” Dan replied, and he wondered if Phil could see the smile on growing on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

Sunday morning Dan was almost as nervous as he’d ever been in his life. It _felt_ like the most nervous he’d ever been, but it probably wasn’t really true. He’d done much more nerve-wracking things than this. For example, the first time he’d ever spoken publicly about his sexuality in a way that wasn’t small hints or cheeky jokes was more nerve-wracking than this.

Back in 2015, he’d decided he wanted to start dating, and he didn’t want to give some guy he might hook up with the power to out him. Maybe it wasn’t a noble reason to come out, like some people seem to have, but he didn’t think he needed one. It was terrifying back then, but he made coming out video fit for dinof branding and mostly dropped it after that.

So, no, going to a coffee shop to work on a charity project with a man who, by happenstance of genetics was royal, wasn’t that big of deal. Though, if he was being honest with himself, being nervous now had to less to do with royalty and more to do with—

 _No._ Dan had to stop himself right there. If he wanted to have a working relationship with this man, he could not go down this road anymore than he already had.

His stomach was all twisted up into knots and he was biting at his fingernails as he walked from the underground station to the cafe—Eloise’s—that Prince Philip had told him about.

It wasn’t even yet five in the morning yet. It was much to early to fully process the weight of what was happening now. He—Dan Howell, full-time internet hobo, as he’d once pretty accurately called himself—was actually going meet the prince of England for coffee. It was technically a work meeting, but he was pretty sure it was just going to be him and the prince. Well, him and probably the prince’s bodyguards or whatever. But still. But _still._

Dan finished following the walking direction on his phone until he was standing in front of a small cafe with a red painted sign that read _Eloise’s._ There were a few cafe tables out front and some glowing fairy lights around the inside of the windows. It looked cozy and comfortable.

Dan could feel his heart pounding through his whole body. His hands were sweating despite the cold, and Dan wiped his clammy hands off on his jeans. With a deep breath to steady him, Dan tugged on the door’s brass handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He peered in through the window. All of sudden, Dan was worried the prince wouldn’t be here, and his stomach started to sink. He hadn’t heard from him yet today, but he knew this was the time and place. The prince had sent Dan the information late last night—and maybe they’d chatted a little after that about the best kinds of sushi because that’s what Dan was having for dinner and the prince had asked because he was stuck having to pretend to eat a cheese plate at this fancy dinner. Apparently, the prince didn’t like cheese, which was kind of—

Suddenly,the cafe door opened to reveal a man as tall as Dan but almost twice as wide with muscle. Dan recognized him from the anti-bullying event. He had face to match his broad body and a large forehead. His lips were set into a straight line.

“Hi,” Dan said awkwardly. “I’m Daniel Howell. Am I in the right place? I was supposed to meet—”

“Come on. The prince is waiting,” the man said.

“Oh, okay…” Now Dan’s nerves were really skyrocketing. The guard had a formal, intimidating tone to his voice that already had Dan off-kilter. This was just a meeting, just a silly work meeting, so why was his heart beating so hard? _Because he’s the prince and you’re… you’re just you. Though what did being the prince matter? It was the twenty-first century. Being born into a certain family didn’t make someone—_

Dan’s thoughts slammed to a stop. There was Prince Philip. Not far away at all, standing from a table in the back corner.

The prince was wearing a button-up shirt with tiny print corgis on it—print fucking corgis— and black jeans. Actual _jeans._ Dan was certain he’d never seen photos of the prince in jeans. His fringe was slightly curled and falling down over his forehead. _Fuck._

A big smile spread across the prince’s face. If it wasn’t so extra, he’d have said it was like a beam of light. “You came,” he said, as if there was a chance Dan wouldn’t have. “Thanks for coming. And for putting up with all this extra work.”

“It’s no problem, but how do you get up this early on a regular basis?” Dan asked, slowly walking toward him.

“Practice,” the prince said, then his shoulders slumped a little. “Honestly, I don’t actually do it that often. I’m a bit of a night owl.”

“Yeah, me too.”

When Dan got over to the prince, the prince put out his hand and Dan took it. He liked the way it felt. Prince Philip’s smaller, cooler palm in Dan’s bigger, warmer hand. It seemed as if the shake went on a little longer than normal, like neither one of them was sure who should be the first to pull away. Dan wasn’t even sure who eventually it was who relaxed the grip. Their hands just slowly slid apart and dropped back to their sides.

After a moment, they settled into their seats at the cafe table across from each other. There were already two ceramic mugs on the table top. They smelled like sweet autumn spices.

“This is my favorite,” Phil said, tapping on the handle of Dan’s mug. “I can get you something else, but I thought maybe you’d like it. Sorry, if that was presumptuous. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Dan reached out for the handle of the warm mug. “More than fine. Thanks. What is it?”

“Honey ginger chai latte.”

Dan took a sip. “It tastes like… November.” Dan laughed. “I don’t know how, but it does.”

The prince let out a quiet laugh. The prince took a sip of his own. He wrapped his hands around the mug rather than holding the handle. Dan liked that for some reason.

“It really does. Somehow,” the prince said. “I bet Eloise would like to hear that.”

“She’s who owns the place?” Dan asked. Of course she was. That was literally the name of this cafe. _God, I’m an idiot._

Phil nodded. “I don’t know what I’d do without her letting me come here every once and awhile and pretend to be normal.”

“You seem pretty normal to me.”

“Well, when I was a kid, I used to eat fish food so…” the prince cringed. “I probably shouldn’t have admitted that.”

“Fish food?”

“I was convinced it would help me swim faster. I wanted to beat Martyn when he’d try to race me. He took like half my toys making me bet I could beat him across the pool.”

Dan laughed softly. “Why’d you agree to it?”

“You don’t have an older brother, do you?”

“I _am_ an older brother.”

Prince Philip put a hand to his chest in feigned shock. “And just when you think you know someone.”

Dan smiled at the prince, and the prince smiled back. Their gazes held a little too long and in the way that made everything inside and out move just a little bit slower.

Prince Philip cleared his throat. “So, uh, should we talk about some work then?”

“Yeah, yeah. I… I guess we should. I can show you some of the notes I’ve been working on?”

“That would be great,” the prince said.

Dan pulled out his iPad and opened up the Google doc he’d been working on, and scooted over a little so he could show the prince. His leg bumped into Prince Philip’s. Dan’s stomach did a stupid little flip. He opened his mouth to begin an apology, but it seemed like the prince hadn’t noticed at all, so Dan bit his tongue.

As they kept talking about the next event, getting deeper into the planning, they slowly started drifting even closer together. Of course, it was for functional reasons only but Dan was still hyperaware of every time they’d accidentally touch. Occasionally, the prince would accidentally brush his leg or foot or knee against Dan’s when he was leaning in to ask Dan a question or suggest an idea. They were tiny touches, but each one had the disproportionate power to knock the air right out of his Dan’s lungs. God, what was wrong with him?

“I think this is going to be great,” the prince said, looking down at his chai latte. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help."

Dan smiled. “Thanks for giving me the opportunity to help.”

The prince gave him the smallest, most sheepish smile, and it just made Dan feel soft and floaty inside. In twenty-six years, he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this. It scared the shit out of him, but he was maybe dumb enough not to fight it. At least not right now with the prince so close to him.

Dan suddenly didn’t want to talk about work anymore so he took a risk and asked a question that wasn’t about work at all, “So, did you at least get to have a little fun in America?”

Prince Philip shrugged. “Some. I enjoyed the pancakes at least. Had IHOP every day I was there.”

“I’m glad I was able to introduce you.”

“Me too, though my doctor probably isn’t. With all the marshmallows I secretly eat, she’s very concerned about my blood sugar levels. But I just can’t resist, you know?”

“I’m more of a salty savory kind of guy, but—”

“The universe needs balance you know,” the prince smiled.

“Okay, Yoda,” Dan teased him, but also kind of understood what he meant. There was something here—something happening between them—that felt a lot like balance. And maybe he shouldn’t have called the prince Yoda.

“What do you normally do when you go to the states?” Prince Philip asked.

“I’m usually there for business actually… I mean, not _business,_ that sounds so not like sitting in my room recounting the joke that is my life. I do conventions and stuff. Vidcon, Playlist Live. I visit Nick in New York.”

“How _did_ you become friends with Nick Jonas?”

Dan laughed. “I ask myself that everyday.”

The prince’s eyes went a little wide. “I didn’t mean… I just meant—”

“I’m sorry,” Dan said. “I was just being… I know what you—”

“Shit,” Prince Philip said, looking past Dan over his shoulder. “The cafe’s about to open. I can’t be here when it does.”

Dan frowned before he could pull his expression back into something neutral. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t want you getting ambushed by your adoring public.”

The prince responded with an awkward smile. “Right. Um, we didn’t really cover everything did we?”

“I don’t—“

“I mean there was more I’d think that we need to talk about. It’s hard to get all that done in an hour, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Plus, they’d kind of gotten side tracked a few times and now Dan was feeling a bit guilty about that. Even if he’d enjoyed the conversation, he’d technically wasted the prince’s time.

Prince Philip let out a breath and focused on Dan. “I know I’ve already asked quite a bit of you, but there was some more I think we need to go over and, um, you know more details to smooth over. Do you think you’d be up to do this again?”

“Really?” Dan blinked. “I mean, yes, yeah. Of course. Whatever you need. You know, for the campaign.”

The prince looked towards the door. “I really do have to get going, but um, if we could get together later this week again. That would be good. This is short notice, but I’m free Wednesday morning. Would you be able to—“

“Works for me,” Dan said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly.

“Okay, Dan. Great.” Phil started to step away, then turned back. He put a hand on Dan’s upper arm and Dan stopped breathing. “Thanks for all this.” His hand slipped away. “And, feel free to text me, if you have any ideas or… anything.”

Dan gave him a small smile. “You too, sir.”

Phil left soon after, and Dan was feeling dazed as he left the cafe too and took the underground home. When he got back to his flat, Nick was still in bed asleep. Dan flopped down beside him.

Nick woke up. He blinked and then yawned, rubbing at his eyes. “You’re back.”

“I am,” Dan’s face was pressed into his own pillow so his words were muffled.

“How was it?”

Dan just made an incomprehensible noise. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yikes. That bad?” Nick asked.

Dan rolled over onto this back. “That good.”

“Oh, man—”

“I know.”

“Why does he have to be so…and why do I have be so into it?” Dan groaned. “Can you just like lend me your heterosexuality next time?”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t get everything done, so he thinks we should meet up again to keep working on it.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Uh huh.”

“What?”

“The prince is going to work on this with you again. Like it wasn’t bizarre enough he was doing it the first time.”

“Why… why would it be bizarre?”

“Come on, man. He’s the prince. Doesn’t he normally just show up at things and like do the Anne Hathaway in _Princess Diaries_ wave, kiss some babies, then go back to his palace where his butlers feed hand feed him expensive cheeses?”

“He doesn’t like cheese.”

Nick just blinked. “Yes, cheese. That’s the point I was trying to make.”

“Nick.”

“You have to know this is unusual, Dan. You have to be aware of that.”

Dan rolled his eyes. Unusual or not, he couldn’t allow himself to go down the road of thought that Nick seemed insistent on taking him down. “I’m working with the Royal Foundation. It’s a huge deal. I’m not going to get any stupid ideas that could ruin that for me alright?”

“I don’t think you’re the one with an idea. I think he—”

Dan’s cell phone vibrated and he immediately reached for the distraction. It was Emily, but he didn’t care. He answered it.

“Hey,” Dan said.

“Uh, hi… I didn’t expect you to answer. I was going to a leave a voicemail. Why are you up at seven in the morning?” Emily asked.

He hadn’t told Emily about working with the prince on his own. He hadn’t told her about the texting or the pizza or any of it. He should probably do that now.

“Maybe I just never went to bed,” he said.

Or not.

Dan stood from the bed. He didn’t want to talk to Emily in front of Nick, so he stepped into the hallway and let her say everything directly to him that she’d normally inform him about in one of her traditional morning voicemails.

‘It’s really weird actually saying this directly to you, you know,” Emily said.

“We should stick to the voicemail system.”

“Yeah, new rule. Don’t answer any calls from me before ten in the morning.”

Dan snorted. “Sounds good. Bye, Em.”

“Bye.”

Dan ended the call and stuffed his phone back into the pocket. The bedroom door opened.

“You didn’t tell her,” Nick said. “She doesn’t know?”

“I left the bedroom so you wouldn’t have to listen to that, and you just listened at the door instead? Great.”

“But seriously, Dan, you didn’t tell Emily? She’s going to find out and when she does. She’s going to flip her absolute fucking shit.”

Dan prickled at that, but the kind of prickling that happened when you knew the other person was right and you didn’t want to admit it. “Why would she flip her shit?”

“You went on a date with the prince.”

Dan guffawed. “I did not go on a fucking date with anyone. It was work—”

“So why won’t you tell her then? Why keep that from Emily, Dan. If it’s just work that doesn’t make any sense.”

“I… come on. You know her. Even if it’s work, she’ll think it’s too ‘risky’ and she’ll give me that look and ruin the whole thing. She’ll think I’m just doing it because I used to have a crush on him. I mean, Nick, it took like an amount of convincing to get her on board with the idea of doing Stop, Speak, Support at all.”

“She’s going to find out, Dan. You can’t keep this a secret from her forever.”

“Maybe not. But I’m going to keep it a secret from her for now, alright?”

“Okay,” Nick’s voice softened. “You’re right anyway. She won’t like this at all. Work or… otherwise.”

“There’s _no_ otherwise.” Dan hoped that if he kept repeating it that he could make it feel as true as logically he knew it had to be.

“Fine. Fine. No otherwise.”

Dan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. His heart skipped. It was a text message from the prince.

Phil: Thanks again for all your help and for getting up so early. It’s hard on us night owls.

Dan smiled down at his phone, and he could feel the smile through his whole body.

Nick nudged Dan as he passed by him in the hall. “No otherwise, my ass.”

Dan just rolled his eyes. Nick could think whatever he wanted. Maybe it wasn’t just work. Maybe there was the small possibility of friendship. But that was all. There was nothing wrong with that.

Dan: Maybe Eloise can keep the shop open an extra hour late next time.

Phil: That’s… that’s… holy shit, Dan. That’s genius!

Yes, that was it. That’s what was happening right now. The small but wonderful possibility of friendship.


	10. Chapter 10

Dan was sat on his bed, streaming live on YouTube. He was wearing these Versace silk pajamas that he claimed he bought at TJ Maxx because it always made him feel a little uncomfortable when his viewers knew how much he paid for some of his clothes.

“How’s this filter?” he asked the chat. “Does it make me look glowy?” He read a line from the chat out loud. “You look like an ethereal sunbeam creature.”

Dan snorted. “So I look like the opposite of me. Bizarro Dan. That’s who you’re all here to see today.” He switched to grainy, kind of greyish filter. “There we go. This feels right. V Dan aesthetic.”

He scrolled through the chat looking for something to comment on, but all he saw was inquiry after inquiry about the prince. He didn’t really want to say anything, but he was starting to think he was making it weirder by not saying anything. His silence was creating a mystery and if his viewers were good at anything it was creating a dramatic mystery out of thin air—see the dick shippers for details.

Dan turned off the grey filter and gave in to reading of the comments out loud. “All we’re here to see today is you talk about meeting Prince Philip.” He snorted. “Okay, okay. Jesus, guys. I met top lad Prince Philip. That happened. Took a picture. You may have seen it.”

He tried dismissiveness, hoping that would be enough, but that only seemed to egg them on. He should’ve known better.

_Oh my God, Dan. Tell us more._

_What was he like?_

_Is he hotter in person?_

_Did you get to touch him?_

_Dan wants that Prince Phil-ussy._

“My God guys. I’m turning off the chat. Have any of you ever been chill a day in your life?”

He didn’t actually turn off the chat and quickly came across a comment he could answer and he wanted to send that person a fruit basket or some shit.

“What was the event for?” he read aloud. “Thank you. Thank you for caring about the _right_ thing, unlike the rest of you pervs. It was an anti-cyberbullying campaign,” he said and then went on to explain what it was about and what it was for.

_Why was Prince Philip there?_

That was another acceptable question, one that didn’t make him feel too much like he was being dissected under an awfully hot microscope.

“The prince was there because—if you’re not from here you might not know this—but the royal family… because what it does is like, you know they don’t have political power, it’s not like a president or something, and it’s certainly not like what you think of—like this isn’t Game of Thrones shit. As much as I’m sure Prince Philip, would love an iron throne. Basically, what the royal family does is just they can bring attention to important matters and make people listen.”

_Can we ask 2013 Dan how he feels about meeting Prince Philip?_

_lol idc about the prince. i’m still here for d**k_

Dan had blacklisted dick a long time ago. His fans found their ways around it.

Dan read the next comment aloud because sometimes he doesn’t always make the best decisions."Seriously, it doesn’t have to be weird, just tell us what the Prince is like. Jeez, Dan. You don’t have to make it weird.” He made a face at the camera on his phone. “Am _I_ the one making it weird? … I don’t know. But, you know, whatever. He’s very nice. He’s down-to-earth. He actually genuinely cared about what he was there to talk about. It was an all-around, positive experience. You happy now?”

_Yes._

_Yes, thank you._

_How hot was he though?_

_Phan rises. I ship it._

_Nooo. Dkkk forever._

_But did you get a boner?_

_Dan, talk about music._

Actually God bless that person, he thought, then said, “Dan, talk about music.” He cleared his throat and started talking about Arca.

_Nobody cares about music rn dan._

_Where’s Nick? Is Nick still in London?_

_We miss Nick._

Dan was frustrated so he just read those comments aloud. “Nobody cares about music right now, Dan. Where’s Nick? Is Nick still in London. We miss Nick.” He sighed. “Fine. Jesus. Do you all want to know where Nick is? Here you go.”

Dan pulled out his phone, put it on speaker and called up Nick. It rang a few times.

Nick answered and immediately said, “Are you actually calling me from upstairs—“

“Nick.”

“You lazy bitch.”

Dan shook his head. “Nick, I’m live streaming.”

“Oh, uh, oops. Hey everyone!”

“Can you get your ass up here? Nobody cares about me and they just want to see you.”

“I mean… I can… I was about to… I bought the ingredients to make ciabatta bread…”

Dan shut his eyes. “Stop making weird shit in my kitchen and come upstairs.”

“Fine. But you get no bread.” Nick hung up.

Dan made the mistake of looking at the chat.

_So domestic._

_Duck lives!!11!_

_did nick move in or something? omfg_

_Nick’s making you bread?? Married much? lol_

Finally, the door to the bedroom opened and Dan felt relieved to see Nick walking in. He hoped Nick would be a good distraction from all the prince stuff. Maybe it wasn’t right to use their friendship like that, but he felt like he was drowning a little bit.

“Hi, Dan’s friends,” Nick said, waving at the camera.

_Aww bb we’re your friends too._

_Why are you in London?_

“I’m here,” Nick said. “Because I’m visiting my best mate.” He plastered on a smile and then leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder.

Dan flicked his ear. “Don’t say mate, mate. We’ve talked about this.”

Nick lifted his head and leaned toward Dan’s phone. “Okay, okay. Tell me in the chat you guys, Dan says I’m not allowed to say mate because I’m an American, but I feel like I am. Discuss.”

“It’s not because you’re an American. It’s because you use it wrong.”

“How the fuck do I use it wrong?”

“I don’t know, _mate._ You just do.”

_You can use it, Nick._

_Don’t listen to Dan._

_Dan be nice to ur bf_

Nick grinned at Dan. “They say ‘it’s fine’, mate.”

Dan sighed. “I’m literally blocking all of you after this livestream.”

_You both need to stop saying mate rn._

_How long are you gonna be in London?_

“I don’t know,” Nick said. “Oh, sorry the question was ‘how long are you gonna be in London’. I don’t know. It depends on like when Dan is fed up with me, when my visa expires. Many relevant factors. Who knows?”

“He’s leaving tomorrow, guys!” Dan announced.

Nick shot him a glare. “Dan loves me being here. I bake him bread.”

_Jeez. Are you guys in a fight or something?_

_Nick are you jealous of the prince?_

_Kiss and make up._

“We’re not actually mad at each other guys. Come on,” Nick said. “These are called bants.”

“And now he’s saying bants.” Dan sighed. “What are we ever going to do with him?”

_uh you could film a gaming vid together._

_vlog your day._

_make bread on danisnotinteresting_

“Jesus, guys. That wasn’t actually a request for video ideas. but maybe, _maybe,_ we’ll do a gaming vid together. I don’t know. Don’t hold me to it.”

“He just doesn’t want to do it because he knows I’ll kick his ass at whatever we play.”

Dan shot Nick a glare he didn’t really mean. “Don’t you have some bread to be making.”

“Why yes, I do,” he said. “Bye guys.” Nick kind of rolled off the bed and walked out of the room.

The chat was filled with ‘bye Nicks’ and Dan talked a little bit more about some of the shows he was watching, and then circled back around to music before answering a few questions about when the next dinof would be. He pretended that he had something in the works, but he really didn’t. Eventually, he finished up his liveshow and logged off.

He laid back on his bed and yawned, his stomach growling. He was about to go downstairs and heat up some leftovers when a notification popped up on his phone.

It was a text from the prince.

Dan’s stomach swooped. He had no idea if or when he’d ever get used to this. Nervous, he opened up the message to read it.

Phil: So… you think I’m a top lad?

That swoop turned into a full-on plummet. _Oh god._ What the hell was Phil doing watching his liveshow?

Dan: oh my god. you were watching my shit live show?

Phil: Not shit. Kind of comforting actually.

 _Comforting? What? What?_ Dan had no idea what on earth could mean by comforting. He’d been told he had a soothing voice before (when he wasn’t shouting) but that was by fans at meet-and-greets not the actual fucking prince of England.

Dan: hearing me yell at my subscribers and jump from topic to topic and talk pretentiously about music is comforting?

Phil: is that weird?

Dan smiled. It was a little weird. But weird wasn’t always bad. And this felt like the exact opposite of bad.

Dan: yes, sir

As soon as Dan sent it, he felt bad for saying the prince was weird. Even if he was joking, maybe Prince Philip wouldn’t get it and would actually think he was mad or something. He had to think of a way to… but that was a terrible idea….

Dan: want to see something that will make you feel less weird?

The prince’s response was almost immediate.

Phil: Y E S.

Dan couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but he wanted to make sure the prince didn’t think he took himself too seriously. He looked up a clip of him playing an animated gorilla on Disney Junior. It was silly and not at all related, but he thought it would be surprising enough to shift the conversation away from Dan being an idiot who accidentally called the prince weird.

After a few moments, Prince Philip sent him another text.

Phil: You were a gorilla???

Phil: I wish I could’ve been a gorilla.

Dan couldn’t help the smile that spread out on his face and pinched at this cheeks. The prince _was_ weird _._ He wasn’t anything like someone would expect a royal to be. It seemed most people saw that as a bad thing, but Dan definitely did not. Not at all.

Dan: you’d trade your throne for a life of bananas and picking bugs off your fellow gorilla brethren?

Phil: Not if my throne was iron. You were right. I’d definitely love an iron throne.

Dan: but not all the horrible carnage that comes with it, i hope

Phil: I mean, I’d rather not be burnt to a crisp by the fiery breath of a dragon.

Dan: good point. who really wants to go out as burp barbecue?

A few moments passed and Dan spent them lying there worried that his joke had been really stupid and annoying and Prince Philip was permanently scared away

Phil: We’re still on for Wednesday right?

Dan: Morning? Or were we going for late night?”

Phil: Eloise said late is fine. We’re night owls anyway, right?

Dan: right

Phil: *hoot hoot*

Phil: that was owl speak for can’t wait for wednesday

Dan felt himself blush, and his stomach did that stupid swooping thing again. _Seriously._ There was something very wrong with him. _It’s called a crush, you idiot._ Dan ignored his own nagging thoughts to reply.

Dan: *hoot*

Phil: :)) good night, dan

Dan: good night, sir

 

Dan spent his Wednesday annoying Nick changing his outfit several times. Just fifteen minutes before he had to leave, Dan finally decided on his long plaid shirt and ripped jeans. He did his best to ignore the mocking comments Nick threw his way just to bother him and took the underground, then walked the rest of the way to Eloise’s. It was nine at night, and the coffee shop was closed, but when he knocked the door. Someone opened it.

It was the bodyguard that the prince always had with him.

The prince was standing a few yards away, his hands tucked into his pockets. He was wearing a crimson red shirt with hearts on it, buttoned up to the collar. It was almost shocking how different Prince Philip seemed dress when he was out of the public eye. A grey-haired woman was more than a foot shorter was stood beside him.

Phil turned toward Dan and melting grin spread across his face. Dan didn’t even think about it. He just matched it with his own.

“Dan,” the prince said once Dan had made his way toward him “This is Eloise. Eloise, this is Dan.”

Eloise put out a hand and Dan gently shook it. “It’s nice to meet you. Thanks so much for letting us crash your place like this.”

“Oh, it’s only a little trouble, though the prince is quite a bit of trouble. You have to watch out for that one.”

After pulling her hand away, Eloise leaned over to the prince and whispered, “I like him. He seems sweet.” She leaned to look around the back of Dan. “And he’s got nice, firm buttocks.”

“Eloise!” the prince’s voice cracked and he mouthed “Sorry” at Dan.

Dan just laughed. “I do squats."

“Well, it shows, dear.” Eloise patted Dan’s arm. “It shows.” And walked off towards the back.

Prince Philip turned toward Dan. His eyes were wide and looked a little panicked. Dan found it cute, even if maybe he shouldn’t. “That was… she’s very… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She seems great.” Dan smiled. He would never turn down an ass compliment anyway, even if it was a little embarrassing in front of the prince.

“I don’t think you’ve formerly met Maxwell, either.” The prince gestured to his bodyguard.

“I haven’t.” Dan put his hand out. “It’s good to meet you, Maxwell. Thanks for putting up with these extra meetings.”

Maxwell narrowed his gaze, looking down at Dan’s hand. It took him so long to respond that Dan almost dropped his hand, but eventually Maxwell did take it. He had a firm almost painful grip, and though he nodded at Dan, he didn’t say a word.

“Come on, Dan,” the prince broke the awkward silence. “We can sit over here if you like. I prefer it to the tables.” He led Dan around the tables to the back corner which was wallpapered in a strange floral pattern. It had probably been tacked up in the eighties. There was a plush two-seat sofa against the wall, though. The prince gave Dan a look and then sat down on the sofa. Dan’s heart was beating fast, too fast,

Maxwell was just standing there, looking down at them, very few feet away.

Prince Philip cleared his throat. “Uh, you don’t have to, uh, loom. We’ll be fine.

Maxwell turned his narrow-eyed attention at Dan, let out of a slight huff, but then moved further away from them near the front door.

“Sorry about him.” The prince sighed. “He’s just really protective of me.”

That alone made Dan like Maxwell more than he would otherwise. He was glad there was someone watching out for the prince, looking out for his best interests. The way Emily looked out for his, even if it was annoying sometimes.

“I get it,” Dan said.

“It’s a lot to get used to, I know. I don’t really notice it. He’s basically just my wide, grumpy shadow. He won’t bother us, even if he is there—“

“Sir.” Dan placed a hand on Phil’s knee before he could stop himself. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Dan pulled away. _Fuck._ “It’s fine. Really.” Dan rushed his words.

The prince let out a long breath. “It’s a lot, you know. I’ve always had trouble making new… friends, I had Martyn of course, but usually it’s either been people who really can’t handle the bodyguards and the rules and all that, or it’s people who like it _too_ much, you know?”

“Yeah, I mean, not really first-hand. YouTube isn’t like a glamorous thing, really, but I know Nick has issues with it sometimes.” Though it wasn’t really just a friend. It was a girlfriend.

“It can be really hard… wow, this conversation took a turn. Back up, back up.” He laughed. “Let’s think about something funny. Kangaroos? They’re ridiculous. Koalas too. Any animal with a pouch.”

“Just the whole Australian animal gambit.” Dan laughed.

“But have you ever smelled a koala? It’s better than like fresh-baked biscuits.”

Dan cocked his head. “Why have you smelled a koala?”

“Because I know how to have a good time.”

Dan smiled. He wasn’t sure what else to do with his face around the prince besides smile.

The prince looked down at his hands. “So, uh, should we talk about work? The school event’s next week.”

“Right, right. Of course,” Dan said, doing his best to shift in to professional mode. “So Nick’s all set to be there, and I’ve talked to the school administrators a few times this week about possible times and locations.”

“My people have been in contact with them as well.”

“Good. Well, I’m planning on speaking to a few classes individually and then we can come together to speak on the stage before Nick plays? We could take questions from the audience, or just go over some talking points.”

Prince Philip nodded. “I think some questions would be a good idea. Keep the students participating.”

“Yeah, I agree. That audience engagement is important.”

They kept on like this for a while, sharing ideas and ironing out details. It was almost funny how easy it seemed to be to work with the prince. They even disagreed one some points, but Dan still felt comfortable working through it to come to an agreement. There was something smooth about it, but also exciting. It was like… like they were a good team or something.

Just when they were finished wrapping things up, the prince said, “I’m really glad we’re working on this together.”

The warmth in those words, the sincerity of them, made Dan’s stomach do a little tumble. He looked over at Phil, who was so close to him on the sofa, closer than they’d been at the start of their conversation. He was… he really was an attractive man—even more so in person and up close. There was nothing a professional photographer or a filter could do to improve him. Dan felt almost angry at the pixels and light that had separated him for so long from the way Prince Philip actually looked. It was a terrible, terrible injustice.

 _Fuck._ Dan had to get his mind on the right track again.

“I’m glad too,” Dan finally managed, his voice so low he could barely hear himself speak.

The prince patted Dan’s knee—a little higher than his knee actually. Near his thigh. His _fucking_ thigh. Dan drew in a sharp breath.

Maxwell cleared his throat, making them jump. Prince Philip yanked his hand away.

“Y-yes,” the prince replied. “Maxwell, what is it?

“I’m sorry, sir,” Maxwell said, looking somewhere past the prince. “You have an urgent phone call you need to take.”

“Thank you. I’ll be with them in a moment.”

Maxwell gave him a serious nod and then left them alone again.

“Sorry… I’m not sure what… but I should.”

“It’s okay. Really.” He understood. It didn’t mean he wanted the prince to go though.

Prince Philip nudged Dan’s shoulder with his. “I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

Dan stood up because he didn’t want to make Phil feel like he couldn’t go, like he had to make some sort of awkward exit. “Next Tuesday.”

Phil stood up too. He didn’t step back though and they were still so close, barely a few inches between them.

Dan liked how close they were in height, but how he stood just the tiniest bit taller. It was the perfect angle to look down into Phil’s eyes, and try to separate all the colors in them. His eyes slipped then, over Phil’s nose and down to his mouth, to his softly pink lips and Dan tried his best to think about something other than how much he wanted to— _no, no. Fuck no._

“I-I’ll let you go, sir,” Dan managed, though he felt his words came out a little squeaky.

“Oh, okay.” Phil looked away, then back again. “Just so you know, when it’s just the two of us, you don’t… you can just call me Phil, if you want.”

Dan smiled, and he felt the smile through his whole body. “Okay, Phil."


	11. Chapter 11

Dan hopped out of the shower and checked his phone.

Phil: You ready for today?

His lips twitched upward into a smile. He wasn’t sure how getting texts from the prince could be simultaneously so unbelievable yet so _normal._ It actually felt normal to hear from _Prince_ Philip like this and it almost scared him.

Dan: i think so. you?

Phil: Yeah….not internally panicking….at all….

Dan sat down on the edge of his bed and stared down at the words the prince had just sent him as he tried to parse their meaning. Was he actually nervous? Was he joking around?

Dan: ?? wanna talk about it

Phil: Not a huge fan of public speaking that’s all

A strange admission from the actual future king, but Phil—he was still adjusting to thinking of him that way—wasn’t always the future king, and he guessed that probably played a role. It had been Prince Martyn groomed for the shoes his little brother was now trying to fill.

Dan: :( you could try picturing everyone in their underwear

Phil: everyone? that would be… uh… distracting

Dan dug his teeth into his bottom lip. _What does he mean by that?_ It was getting almost exhausting trying to filter through all the possible meanings in his head every time he spoke with Phil. What was likely to be true. What Nick would tell him was true. What Louise would warn him about. What Emily would lose her shit about. Maybe he just needed to do a lot less thinking.

Phil: Dan, how do you feel about public speaking?

Dan: for being such a social wreck, you’d think i’d hate it, but i don’t mind really. i can practice it over and over again.

Phil: You’ve been practicing for today?

Dan: pretty much constantly… and like you’ll be fine. you were great when you spoke at the last thing.

Phil: thanks. can i say something ridiculous?

Dan stomach dropped at those words. What could the prince possibly want to say to him right now? It could be anything and the total uncertainty of it was making him more nervous than he’d ever been for the event today.

Dan: of course

Because of course he could say something ridiculous to Dan. The prince— _Phil,_ Dan was still getting used to calling him that—could tell Dan anything. Dan wanted to hear it. _Oh fuck, what’s happening?_

Phil: i noticed you that day. like in the audience.

All the thoughts in Dan’s head just became whirring white noise, and the ghostly imagined sound of Phil saying _I noticed you, I noticed you, I noticed you._

Dan: you did?

Phil: you stood out to me

It was still just that whirring white noise, but now _you stood out to me, you stood out to me, you stood out to me._

Dan: yeah i was a sad black dot in a sea of color that day

A few moments passed, then Phil’s reply came in.

Phil: That was probably it. I’ll see you in a couple hours?

Dan: wouldn’t miss it.

Phil: You better not ;)

Dan set his phone aside and dressed in an oversized jumper and jeans. He was ruffling his hair in the mirror when Nick walked in.

“Stop primping, Dan. You’re sexy enough.”

Dan looked over his shoulder at Nick, who was tugging his headphones out of his ears. He went for runs to pump up for performances, and he was red-faced and sweaty.

“You better be planning on taking a shower,” Dan said.

“I thought I’d go exactly like this. Give everyone a taste of the true Nick Jonas.”

Dan snorted. “I’ve tasted the true Nick Jonas. You’d barely break two stars on Yelp, mate.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “I think I’d remember if you’d tasted me.”

“Just get in the goddamn shower.”

Nick smiled at him, the tension visibly running out of his body, as he leaned down to tug off his trainers. “Are you heading out soon?”

“Yeah, in the next half hour or so. You and your band are set to be there at one, right? Because you need to be there right at one or—”

“You realize,”—Nick put a hand on Dan’s shoulder—“that I do this professionally, don’t you?”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “I know. I’m just saying because this whole thing is like it’s a timing thing with Phil coming and—“

“Phil?” Nick’s eyes were wide. “ _Phil?”_

“Oh, Nick come on.”

“He’s Phil now?”

Dan groaned. “Nick. He just… he asked me to call him Phil. We’ve been working together a lot and it’s probably weird to have someone constantly calling you sir or whatever.”

“I guess it depends on the context.” Nick winked.

“Stop making everything sexual.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle—“

“If you don’t shut up and get in the shower now, I swear to God.”

Nick laughed and mimed zipping his lips shut. Then, he tugged his shirt off over his head and threw the sweaty thing at Dan before heading off to the shower.

Dan grabbed his wallet and his phone, then shouted “I’m heading out” through the door just as Nick was turning on the water.

 

Being back in a school building, even though it wasn’t his own, felt strange. Seeing the students stuffed into their uncomfortable uniforms with their books tucked under their arms, seeing the way they’d all congregate into specific groups, spotting each other across the campus and gravitating together was strange. All of it was—the desks, the classrooms, the organization of everything that had changed only in the way that new technologies had painted over the ones of his youth. The laptops instead of spiral notebooks. Smart phones instead of flip phones. Most of these students had probably never even experienced the sound and the smell and strange light of an overhead projector.

So, yeah, it was weird being back in a place like this. A place that was similar enough and yet different enough to house old, bad memories more like they were the remnants of a nightmare where everything was just a little shifted from reality.

The cameraman they’d arranged had filmed him as he walked inside, and Dan had done his best to push aside the past for the present. He wanted to turn on ‘presenter’ Dan. The side of Dan that he felt control over, that he felt at peace with. He needed to leave the rest of it behind.

So he did—as best he could.

Dan went into the school, and sat at the front of classrooms with the index cards he’d been working on and spoke to the kids and let them ask question. When he needed to, he’d turn to that camera because there was something comforting about it—the presence of it. Reminding him that he was here now—in this life that he’d built and that he loved—not in the past where everything felt impossible and the future drained of color.

When he was finished talking in the classrooms, he headed off to some cordoned off classrooms the school had set aside for them. Emily was there too. She was sat on the top of one of the desk, tapping the toe of her boot in the air. He could already tell she looked differently than she normally did, even from across the room. Her brown hair was sleeker than normal, and not tied up. Black skinny trousers, white blouse, oversized tweed blazer. More makeup than usual. She looked like Emily, but with an extra sheen of polish. She looked like someone who was going to see an ex for the first time in a while.

“Alright, talk to you later,” Emily said. She slid off the desk and then slipped her phone into her pocket. Her focus turned to Dan and she gave him a small smile. “How’d it go?”

Dan shrugged. “Good, I guess. Thanks for helping out with the coordination and organization part of everything.”

“Coordination and organization _is_ my middle name.”

“That must be hard to fit on your tax forms,” he said.

Emily just gave him a look, then she walked over to a package of water bottles and tugged one loose. She handed it to Dan.

“Hydrate,” Emily said. “You go on stage in like fifteen minutes.”

Dan took the water and cracked the lid off. As he was taking a long drink, his phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. He put the cap back on the water bottle and sat it on one of the desk. He pulled his phone out.

Phil: Shh i’m on my way but that’s top secret

Dan: this is it. we’ve found it. the world’s most boring spy film

Phil: I know, right? How’d it go so far?

Dan: not bad. good, actually, i think.

Phil: I knew it :))

Dan couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face, and that was when he realized that Emily had been watching him the whole time.

Her eyes were narrowed. “Okay, who were you texting?”

“No one,” Dan said and immediately regretted it. It was a lie and an obvious one.

“No one?”

Dan let out a breath because he was pretty fucked. Maybe if he’d just said that it was the prince when she’d asked, he’d be fine. Maybe if he’d lied and said it was like Nick or Louise or his mum or something he’d be fine too. But no. He’d had to go and lie and now Emily would want to the know the truth and then the reason he hadn’t told the truth to begin with.

“If it’s Nick, you don’t have to… I mean I’m going to have to see him today, and we’re both adults. I’ll be just fine.”

“Yeah.” But it wasn’t Nick. And he should tell her the truth, but when he tried to the words just wouldn’t come. “When the prince gets here”—Dan changed the subject. Well, less than Emily knew he did—“Stand where I can see you backstage and like gesture to me so I can introduce him.”

Emily nodded. “Sure thing. Though I can’t believe we’re seeing as much of the prince we’re seeing. It’s bizarre, right? I mean, who would have guessed we’d be doing this last year at this time with what we were doing.”

“Don’t knock the stage show.”

“You danced, Dan. Danced _and_ sang. I supported you but only insofar as you paid me to.” Emily gave him a cheeky grin.

“Remind me again why I don’t fire you.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t figured that one out yet.”

Dan took another drink of his water.

“You want to rehearse some?” she asked.

For a long time, Emily had tried to get him to just chill before public speaking engagements but he’d always fought her on it, and eventually she’d realized that Dan was the kind of person who did better if he ran things over in his head a bunch of times beforehand. He might have been a procrastinator but he always had a strategy, even if it was a last minute strategy.

Dan let out a huff of nervous energy. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

They rehearsed his opening lines a few times and ran over his main talking points. And, Emily, fucking genius that she could be, reminded him to try introducing Prince Philip. The last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up. And not just because he was the _prince,_ but also because he was _Phil._ And Dan knew that Phil was already nervous. He didn’t want to add any awkwardness or confusion.

There was a knock on the door, and then the school headteacher stepped inside. “You all set, Daniel?” she asked in her particularly posh accent, that went very well with her sleek grey bob.

“I am. Are we ready?”

The headteacher nodded. “The students are all sat in the auditorium and waiting.”

“Thank you,” Dan said, and followed the headteacher out, Emily walking at his side.

When they were backstage of the auditorium, Dan gave Emily one last look and she gave him a nod of approval as he walked out on stage.

He waved. “Hey everybody! How are we doing today?”

The students clapped, and the quickly shifted into introducing himself. For Dan, there was just something about being on stage, something about the energy moving around in the crowd and making its way to him. Something about the focused attention that made him almost buzz with excitement. He talked and hit his points, but it was more than just blindly following through what he had practiced. It was natural for him to be up here, in a way that little else in his life had ever felt natural.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan saw Emily wave at him, then just behind her. He could see Phil’s head. He was wearing glasses today. Dan hadn’t seen the prince wear glasses often, but they looked good on him. _So_ good, beneath that quiff and that wonderful forehead—

 _Fuck._ Dan needed to get back on track.

He turned his attention toward the crowd of students and drew in a deep breath. “Okay everyone, we have a very special guest for you today… Prince Philip, Duke of Cambridge.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

The prince walked out onto the stage. Now that Dan knew he harbored a hidden anxiety about speaking in front of a crowd, he could see that fear played out in the way Phil was carrying himself. Stiff shouldered, his stride a little too long—and there was a flatness to his expression, at least in comparison to the way he’d been with Dan at Eloise’s.

When he was closer to Dan on stage, Dan caught Phil’s gaze and let his lips twitch into a small smile. There was a warmth Dan felt whenever he was near the prince, and he did his best to let that warmth radiate from him. He hoped maybe he could share not only that warmth, but maybe a bit of his own confidence as well. This was an environment Dan felt comfortable in—comfortable being himself, or at least a version of himself.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming,” Phil said to the students, who were on their feet because they were supposed to be on their feet, and who had come because their school administration had required them to. “Please feel free to take a seat.”

Slowly, the students sat down, but Dan immediately felt the awkwardness. If he felt it, Phil certainly felt it too—and that was the last thing he needed. 

“It is good you’re all here,” Dan said. “And it’s important that we all pretend you’re here by choice. It’s important for my ego.” It was a risk, but it got a small laugh. “And just remember, once we get out of your hair, you’ll get Nick Jonas.”

“Listen to us for half an hour and as a reward you get a, uh, rad concert,” Phil said.  _ Phil said.  _ That was a surprise and it had Dan looking in his direction, his eyebrows raised. “Rad? Rad is it rad?”

Dan shrugged. “Lit maybe. I think it might be lit.”

The students were laughing now, and some of them were shouting out replacement terms for rad and lit.

Dan waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever. We’re old. Let’s not worry about it. We’re here for serious business anyway, right?” He looked over at Phil.

“Right. Thank you, Dan.”

“Serious pre-Nick Jonas business.”

The prince made his way to one of the chairs on the stage, and Dan followed him. They both sat down. They’d decided at Eloise’s that sitting down would make the students feel more like were involved in a discussion rather than being the recipients of a speech. 

“Alright, well,” Dan said, “Cyberbullying has probably in one way or another affected everyone in this room, and really what we’re trying to do here is give people the proper tools to handle situations where they might find themselves or others being bullied online.”

Phil added to what Dan was saying and, in that moment, it almost felt like the shared conversations they’d had over coffee and hot tea. Almost as if there was no one else there. It was strange, unsettling really, how Phil seemed to have the power to dull out everything around him that wasn’t him. Was it just a gift that royalty had? A shine that made everything flat by comparison?

“When I first started making videos,” Dan said. “You know, I had so much support from so many people, but the thing is, even when you have that, it’s really easy to lend more credibility to the negative voices. It’s something I honestly still struggle with. Because, for me, it was easier to believe the people saying the negative things because they were repeating some of the not-great things I told myself.”

Phil nodded. “That’s the struggle really, isn’t it? Finding a way to hear negativity—possibly learn from it—but not internalize it, though that’s easier said than done. We want to be able to tell you all simple steps to follow to successfully navigate these situations, but Dan and I are not here to talk down to you.”

_ Dan and I.  _ Dan hated how much he liked the sound of that coming from Prince Philip’s mouth. “It doesn’t do us any good or you any good for us to pretend these kind of situations are cut and dry. Life is complicated. The relationships we have with other people are complicated, right? So, of course, the steps are in the name. Stop, Speak, Support. We’ve going over that all day, but that’s just a framework.”

“Exactly, Dan. It’s a framework, but we know and you all know that a real world application is only going to be successful when you remember to… you know this is… it’s something my brother used to always say…”

Dan could hear Phil’s voice tighten and he fought an instinct to reach for the prince, to steady him with a touch, but he kept his hands firmly in his lap. 

“He used to always say “bring your best self”. No one’s perfect and we all have strengths and weaknesses, and the ability to make a choice about how we’re going to apply those strengths and weaknesses in our relationships and in our communities. So, there’s the framework. There’s Stop, Speak, Support, but there’s also  _ you.” _

Dan usually wasn’t speechless on stage, but he was finding words difficult as he looked over at Phil and the way the bright, awkward lighting was making his face kind of glow. Some of that earlier tension had faded and seemed to be replaced, Dan wouldn’t say by calm, but maybe something more like resolve. 

They started to take questions, like they had planned, and it took a moment for the nervous students to warm up to them, but eventually they got there. Eventually the kids came up to the provided microphone and asked them questions about what to do in certain situations and what they had done when faced with certain difficult moments.

It was nice—it felt right. The two of them sat on those chairs just having this conversation. He was worried it would feel stilted, but it didn’t. Here he was—nobody at all—sat on a stage with one of the world’s biggest somebodies and it was just  _ good.  _ It was an opportunity to reach out to and connect with these teenagers. Dan remembered what it was like to be their age and to feel alone. To feel like nobody was listening and even if they were, they wouldn’t understand anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t succeed, but he hoped that for a moment today, that’s how they made at least one of these students feel: understood.

Eventually, their time was up, and Dan could see people signaling that off to the side, and he was pretty sure he could see Nick back there as well. They needed a moment to set up the stage for the band, so they took one last question, wrapped things up and then walked off the stage to the sound of applause. 

When they were out of sight, Dan leaned over to Phil, “Better or worse than you thought it was going to be?”

“Better,” Phil said, then glanced over at Dan. “Definitely better.”

Dan smiled back at him, and there was this moment. This soft moment that seemed to slow everything else around them—just put it all back to the periphery. The stage behind them, the rest of the people around them, the noises, all of it, was just a blur. Phil, however, was in perfect, crystal clarity.

Then, Dan felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned toward it. It was Nick, who looked energized and focused, the way he always did before he performed.

“Hey, man,” Nick said to Dan.

“You must be Nick.” Phil put out his hand. 

Nick gasped. “God, yes. Shit. Sorry. I did not see you… uh, sir? Sorry, I’m not sure what to… I’m very American.”

Phil gave him a friendly smile. “It’s fine. I kind of disappear behind Dan anyway.” He made a show of ducking behind Dan’s head, which made Dan feel strangely giddy.

Nick laughed. “He is freakishly large.”

Dan narrowed his gaze. “ _ Hey. _ ”

“Sorry, bro,” Nick said. “Not to be… but weren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Oh, right. Oh shit. I was. I probably should’ve stayed on stage.” Dan had just done the natural thing and walked out with Phil. Maybe it shouldn’t have felt so natural, but it did. God help him it did.

“Go on,” Phil said, nodding toward the stage his hands in his pockets.

Dan really didn’t want to leave. He worried that Phil would be whisked away by the time he got back and though he did have his number, what reason would he have to use it anymore with the excuse of this work thing gone now?

Dan just nodded back at Phil and ran back on stage. He hurried up to the microphone to introduce Nick as quickly as he could. He probably shouldn’t rush it, but he wanted to get back to Phil. Get in that proper goodbye.

Goodbye. Dan’s stomach sank.  _ Goodbye.  _ He didn’t like that at all.

Dan was hurrying back off stage, just Nick was running onto it. 

“Good luck,” Dan said as Nick passed.

Nick smiled at him then turned his attention to the crowd, that was now on their feet, clapping and shouting and whistling. Dan stopped, just for a second to watch Nick turn from Nick into Nick Jonas. Then, he turned back around, hoping to see Phil still backstage.

When he wasn’t where Dan had left him, disappointment began to settle in his chest, but then he scanned the area and caught Phil’s gaze. He was tucked a little further backstage, but still probably where he could somewhat see the stage and he was leaning against a wall. Maxwell was stood just a few yards away, like always.

Phil beckoned Dan over with a wave of his hand, and there it was again. That inner flip of giddiness. Maybe it was irresponsible, but Dan didn’t even do much to tamper it back down. He just moved around the other’s backstage and right up to Phil. To the prince. A few months ago he couldn’t have even fathomed being able to just stride up to the actual prince of his country like this. Maybe he shouldn’t even do it now, but it was too late. And Phil had called him over, right? Unless there was someone behind him that he hadn’t noticed that Phil was actually calling over.

“Your friend’s good live,” Phil said, his voice raised over the music filling the school’s auditorium.

“Eh, I’ve heard better,” Dan said. “Now, his brother Joe. He knows how to put on a show.” Dan let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t know why I’m taking the piss when he’s not even around to hear it. Habit, I guess. I thought you might have to head out.”

“Actually no. The dinner conference I had scheduled was cancelled. So I’m free to rock out… is that the proper…”

“I’m going to let you in on something… sir.” Dan had almost called him Phil, but then realized they weren’t technically alone. “I’m a huge nerd. I’m not sure either.”

“I thought you were an emo,” Phil said.

“Excuse me?”

Phil rubbed at the back of his neck. “I watched some of your videos the other day and you mentioned…”

“Oh, yeah, well, I was a wanna-be emo. Like, I tried.”

“I wasn’t allowed to try, but I was into some… I mean, like Muse and stuff.”

“You were into Muse?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, you?”

“Better than this garbage.”

Phil just gave Dan look.

“Jesus, seriously. I need to stop. It’s like a disease, but I can’t help it… honestly, I think he’s great and I’m really proud of him, but don’t ever tell him that.”

Phil put a hand to his heart. “Your secret is safe with me, Dan.”

They just stayed there, leaning against the wall together with their awkward view of the stage, listening to Nick’s set. He was playing songs from his current album  _ Last Year Was Complicated  _ and shit, if last year wasn’t complicated for Nick, he wasn’t sure he knew what complicated meant, but the shitty thing about that was that that album was about last year and, for Nick, last year had been about Emily.

Dan scanned the area of the backstage he could see. No Emily. That was probably for the best. Maybe she’d ducked out early. Dan wouldn’t blame her.

As Nick shifted from “Champagne Problems” to “Touch”, Dan wondered if anyone’s attention was on them and not the stage. Well, anyone’s but Maxwell’s. He kind of hoped they weren’t. Dan thought that maybe if people were looking that Phil wouldn’t want to be seen, nearly shoulder to shoulder, tucked away in the corner, with some nobody Youtuber. 

And then, Dan spotted her. It was Emily. She’d come onto backstage through a door that probably led to the school’s theatre room or something. She was staying off to the side, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here or if she should be here, but she was.

“Touch” came to an end, which gave a moment of silence, to allow the students to begin chanting in the audience, chanting for the song they all knew everyone wanted to hear because, even though they were almost all in one way or another about the semi-secret girlfriend everyone was speculating about, this particular song seemed acutely about her, about how serious they’d been, about how thoroughly she’d broken his heart. And it seemed that way because it was that way. Dan had first hand knowledge. He’d helped write the song after all. Well, the music. He’d told Nick he didn’t have to credit him, but he had anyway.

That song had been written on one of the worst days of Nick’s life. He cried on Dan’s floor in Dan’s arms for a long time and then eventually, he’d gotten himself together enough to channel that feeling into words scribbled on paper and into Dan’s tapping shaky notes out onto the piano keys. 

Dan wouldn’t forget that night, even without the song. But with the song, no one would.

He could tell Nick didn’t want to play it because he still hadn’t played it, but the stands of students were still chanting, “Chainsaw. Chainsaw. Chainsaw.”

Dan heard the first notes start to play. It was the stripped back version, all piano and guitar. He knew those notes because he’d written them. 

_ Walk in the house, lights are off _

_ In the closet by the door, there’s your coat _

Dan’s attention went right to Emily. He expected her to maybe turn and walk back out, but instead was slowly making her way closer to the stage. This was not a good idea. If Nick turned his head at all, he could see her. Dan wasn’t sure he could keep singing if he saw her.

_ Keep finding things that you left on purpose _

_ Did you plan it your timing’s perfect? _

Dan wasn’t sure if Emily had ever listened to his album. He wasn’t even sure if she knew how much she’d broken Nick’s heart. Maybe now she was getting it, but this was definitely not the time for her to be getting it. Not right now. Not surrounded by all these people when she had to be professional, put-together. 

_ Maybe I'll just take a chainsaw to the sofa _

_ Where I held your body close for so long, so long _

Emily stood there watching, still moving closer to the stage. Then, Nick looked over his shoulder and Dan knew immediately by the look on Nick’s face that he’d seen her. There was a moment where neither one of them seemed capable of moving, then Emily pivoted and rushed away towards the door where she’d entered earlier. In the light, Dan had been able to see tears glisten in her eyes and a stray one streak down her cheek.

_ Fuck. _

He really needed to go after her, even if a selfish part of him didn’t want to leave Phil. Dan had no idea when he’d ever see him again. But Dan knew he had to go. He really absolutely had to.

Dan pushed himself off the wall. “I’m sorry she’s…”

“The one the song’s about, right?” Phil said, though Dan could barely hear him above the music. 

Dan wasn’t sure if it was just really obvious or if the prince was especially insightful, but he guessed it didn’t matter.

“I have to—”

“Go? I know.”

Dan took a few steps away, then looked back at Phil, who was looking at him and not the stage. He gave Phil the smallest smile, and Phil returned it. Dan tore his gaze away and basically ran. He knew if he didn’t do it right then, he’d never be able to.

The door that Emily left through was about to close, but Dan caught it before it could and followed her out and down the hall.

“Em,” he said, though she didn’t stop. She just ducked her way into the classroom they’d waited in earlier.

Dan followed behind her. “Emily.” He quietly shut the door behind them. “You want to talk about it?”

She didn’t respond, other than to drop her hand away from her face. She didn’t look at Dan as she pressed her back to the wall and slid down to the floor. Dan slowly approached her. Her eyes were wet and red. Her mascara was running a little down her face as well.

Emily sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

“Course I do.” Dan leaned against the wall beside Emily and slid down to sit beside her.

“You really don’t.”

“Em… I… I shouldn’t have invited him to play. I’m sorry I did that to you.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did this. All of it… it’s no one’s fault but my own, though I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

Emily drew in a deep breath and then let it out. “I broke his heart. Like I  _ really  _ broke his heart, didn’t I?”

Dan remembered how hard Nick had fallen and just how hard he’d fallen apart when Emily had ended things between them. “He wanted to marry you, Emily. Of course you broke his heart.”

She sniffed again. “Why the fuck did he want to marry me?”

Dan nudged her shoulder and gave her a soft smile. “Don’t ask me.”

“We just… we weren’t right. We both were going to have to give up too much of ourselves to fit in each other’s worlds,” she said.

Dan knew this was her excuse or reason or whatever you wanted to call it. They were too different. They were Romeo and Juliet if Juliet’s defining characteristic was her practicality, her sensibility. A sensible Juliet didn’t make for a very good story, but it did make for everyone being alive at the end, so maybe he saw where she was coming from.

“Maybe.”

“Or…” she sniffed again. “Maybe I’m just a goddamn coward that couldn’t handle paparazzi photos of my cellulite.”

“That doesn’t make you a—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Dan remembered that ‘article’ on some online celeb gossip blog. It was just a lot of invasive and not-so-flattering photographs of Emily and Nick in Spain. The blog had a comment section and Emily had broken the rule she’d given to Dan. Stay the fuck out of the comment section. That was the beginning of the end for Emily and Nick. 

“I know you have a lot of rules for yourself, Em. You have a lot of rules for me. You probably had rules for Nick, but we don’t need to talk about your sex li—“

Emily elbowed him in the stomach, but his joke had at least earned him a small smile.

“ _ Hey. _ ” Dan rubbed the spot where she’d hit him in the ribs. “I’m just saying. You have a lot of rules for yourself and I know one of those rules is to keep a stiff upper lip. I’ve watched you obey that rule this whole time, and I really think that’s the one you’re going to have to figure out how to break.”

Emily stared straight ahead. Her face was blank and then she shut her eyes and let out a broken sob. More tears streaked down her cheeks and she threw her hands up over her eyes and just let herself cry. 

Dan reached over and put a hand on her back. She’d broken Nick’s heart—everyone knew that—but it seemed like now, at least, she was finally recognizing that she’d broken her own heart too. 

The door to the classroom opened, and Emily jolted up, dropping her hands away from her eyes. Dan turned towards the door and could not believe what he saw. It was the prince.

“I’m really sorry, but Maxwell needed me to… since there are students in the hall.”

Dan could see Maxwell’s large frame just beyond the door, but Phil reached behind himself to shut it, so it was just the three of them inside.

Emily was wiping the tears from her eyes and standing. “This is incredibly unprofessional of me,” she said. “I’m very sor—“

“Oh, please don’t apologize,” Phil said, seeming a little meek himself. “Hang on.” He fished around the pocket of his coat and pulled out a Snickers bar and held it out to Emily. “Would you like a chocolate?”

Emily’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked out another tear as she stared at the prince’s offering. 

“Don’t know about you, but sweets always make me feel better.”

She slowly reached out to take it. “T-thank you.”

“Sorry it’s a little mushy. It was in my pocket.”

Emily gave him a smile and thanked him again, but Dan could tell that she still wanted to cry, so he excused herself and left, opening the candy bar the prince had given her on her way out. The door shut behind her, leaving Dan alone with Phil for the first time ever.

Phil looked at Dan, reaching back to rub his neck. He didn’t say anything, just bit his lip and looked at Dan.

“Hi,” Dan said, like a dumbass.

“Hi.” It was somehow much more compelling when Phil said it.

“I feel like it went well. I mean besides the whole Nick and Emily mess.”

“Is she going to be alright?”

Dan lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah. I mean, now, that she has that Snickers bar.”

A pretty pink blush bloomed on Phil’s cheeks, and it made Dan’s stomach swoop. 

“So, uh…” Phil stepped forward. “It was good working with you.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for the opportunity.”

Phil nodded. “You were the one who did me a favor.”

“Now, I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I do.” Phil was looking at him again, just straight looking at Dan and it was too much to even process. He was… goddammit, he was breathtaking.

It was Dan’s turn to take a step closer. “Phil, I—”

“Sir, we need to be leaving.” It was Maxwell.

Phil inhaled sharply, then replied flatly, “I’ll be there in a minute.” The door shut again. His voice softened as he directed it back at Dan. “What were you saying?”

“Just, uh, you know, let me know if you ever need help again for anything. It would be good to work with you again sometime, sir.”

“Right… you too, Daniel.” He put his hand out.

Dan looked at his hand for a moment, then reached out for it. His palm felt good pressed against Phil’s and he squeezed. The touch lingered for longer than it probably should’ve, but eventually, their grips relaxed and their hands slowly dropped apart. Dan’s stomach swooped again as Phil’s fingertips trailed along as he pulled away.

“Well, um, I have to go,” Phil said.

“Okay,” Dan said, even though it didn’t feel okay. And certainly didn’t feel okay when Phil left him just stood there alone.

It didn’t feel okay  _ at all. _

  
  



	13. Chapter 13

After the school event, Dan took the train back to his flat with Nick. Neither one of them said much of anything to each other. It felt too loaded to talk, especially surrounded by all the other people in the train. 

It was getting pretty cold out, so they were huddled up close together as they left the train for the street. A light snow had started to fall. Normally, Dan would be happy to see a few flakes falling from the sky, but today they felt more like nuisance than anything. 

When he got to his flat door, he unlocked it and Nick followed him inside. They were silent as they kicked off their shoes and stripped off their coats.

“Um,” Nick broke the silence. “Should we order dinner or something?”

Dan shrugged. “You can if you want. I’m not really feeling very hungry.”

“Me either. I just figured that maybe we could—“

“I’m going to go play some Skyrim, okay?” Dan said. He could feel his words moving a little slower than normal, sounding a little flatter.

“Oh, okay. I’ve got stuff to do anyway.”

Things weren’t usually awkward with Nick. They were close. They’d been through some shit together over the last few years, but they felt awkward right now. It was probably a lot of things. They’d been spending a lot more time together than they normally did. Dan wasn’t sure when Nick was planning on heading home. It wasn’t that Dan wanted him to leave either. It was just that maybe that was why things were awkward. That or maybe Dan felt weird that he’d been comforting Emily, when he’d spent so much time comforting Nick. Maybe that made Nick feel weird too. Or maybe Nick was just sad because of Emily. Maybe Dan was sad because of… well, he really didn’t want to admit it. What good would admitting it do?

Dan gave Nick a small smile that he hoped expressed that he was trying, and that maybe he could try even better later. Right now though, that small smile was all he had to give.

He walked off to the other room, put on his VR headset and disappeared into the world of Skyrim, of dragons, magic and organized missions that he could make sense of. He didn’t reemerge until hours later, long after dark, when he realized he really shouldn’t have neglected eating and drinking so long. 

Dan turned off Skyrim and headed to the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of water and guzzled it down, then he opened the refrigerator. There was a paper sack with a note on it.

_ You’re welcome, _

_ Nick. _

Dan’s lips twitched into a small smile and he reached for the bag. He opened it up to find a carton of chips and a neatly wrapped cheeseburger. Sometimes he was really fucking glad to have a best friend who had his shit together even when he didn’t entirely have his shit together. 

He poured himself another glass of water then sat down at the table with the sack of food. He opened it all up and started to munch on some chips when, out of habit, he pulled out of his phone and scrolled through twitter. 

And there they were. Photographs of him and the prince at that school today. There were the ones that Stop, Speak, Support had posted of them on stage speaking. Then, there was one other that they had posted. One that was blurry in the background. It would be hard to tell what you were looking at, if you didn’t know what you were looking at. It was a picture of Nick singing. No big deal, but just off to the corner of image, there they were.

Dan and Phil. 

Dan had his leg kicked up behind him, foot against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. Phil’s hands were tucked into his pockets and their faces were turned toward each other. It looked casual because it was, and it looked familiar because it kind of was too. There wasn’t all that much space between them either.

_ Fuck.  _

The picture shouldn’t be a problem—nothing was happening—except he was sure if he did any digging at all into “dandom” space, he’d find people pointing them out, making a bigger deal out of it than it was.

_ You’re the one making a bigger deal out of it… _

Dan ate another chip to distract himself, but it didn’t really taste like anything, and god, wasn’t that thought true? He  _ was  _ making a big deal out of this. He’d been letting himself get closer, get attached, to something that always had an expiry date. Louise had been right. Not that Phil would turn out to be less than Dan had dreamed him up to be. From what Dan had seen of the real Phil, he was worth a thousand of the one Dan had imagined him to be. But there was a dream of Phil that was gone now. One he hadn’t really seen coming somehow.

Dan had always had it in the back of his head—as stupid as it was—that he could meet Prince Philip and that, technically, anything could happen after that. After years of putting his life together, Dan was in the best place he was ever going to be, and he’d done it. He’d met the prince, like he’d always imagined. And this… well, it was always going to be  _ this _ at best—meeting the prince, having some fun banter and nice moments together, then going their separate ways. Even that was more than he could possibly have asked for. Still, when Dan had said goodbye to the prince today, their work together finished, it was the end of something that had started when he was fifteen. When he’d tucked a torn page of a magazine—“Prince Philip’s Life at University”, the article had been titled—under his mattress. When he didn’t want to accept what that meant—that he liked boys. When he was afraid of that boy at his grandma’s church with those perfect freckles who’d held his hand once when they’d dimmed the lights during youth group. 

It was the end of the first thing that made him realize that maybe he could love in a way that didn’t exclude boys with pretty freckles and dirt under their nails. Or ones with ginger hair dyed black and three different colors in their eyes.

Dan didn’t realize he was crying until he felt wetness on his cheek. “Fuck.”

He stared at his half-eaten burger and his chips and realized he wasn’t going to be able to eat the rest. He was a mess and unfortunately there wasn’t going to be any pretending that he was just fine. 

This time when Dan looked at his phone, he didn’t look at the pictures of them on twitter. He opened his messages and scrolled through the texts he and Phil had sent each other. Sometimes the messages were about work and sometimes they were just banter and other times something real would slip in. Phil would say something about Martyn and Dan would say something about his depression.

Suddenly, Dan was hit with a realization that nearly knocked the air out of him. He wasn’t upset because of an old magazine page stuffed under his mattress. This wasn’t about Prince Philip. This—this hollow ache in his chest—was about Phil. Just Phil.

Dan couldn’t stomach anymore food, even though he barely ate half of it. He put it back in the fridge and forced himself to drink some more water before dragging himself up the stairs to bed.

Nick was already asleep and snoring lightly. Dan tugged off his clothes and tossed them in a heap on the floor, then used the light of his cell phone to dig out a pair of gym shorts. The only thing that he didn’t like about Nick being here all the time—and in his bed all the time—was that he couldn’t sleep naked anymore. 

Dan brushed his teeth, then came back into the bedroom and crawled into bed.

Nick turned over. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

“I don’t know,” Dan said. “Like 3 am.”

“Are you just coming to bed?”

“Yeah.”

They both just laid there for a moment, listening to the quiet whirr of the heater running. It had been snowing. Dan wondered if it had accumulated at all.

“I really fucking miss her,” Nick said. It sounded out of nowhere, but Dan knew it really wasn’t. 

Dan shut his eyes, his throat feeling tight. “I have… I have feelings for Prince Philip. Like very fucking real feelings.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“What are  _ you _ ?”

Nick let out a breath. “Just mope around for a while, probably, and hope it gets better again.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Nick rolled over so he was facing Dan. It was dark, but he could still make out the basic outline of his face. “That’s a plan for me. Not for you.”

“How so?” Dan asked.

“You could tell the prince how you feel, couldn’t you?”

Dan’s chest felt tight. “Nothing… it’s not like anything can ever happen between us.”

“Why not?”

“He’s the actual future king—and he’s going to make a really good one. He doesn’t see it yet, but I do. Even if by some miracle he was into me, I’d just be a stumbling block for him. Something to ruin his reputation.”

“Dan, you’re not—”

“Can we not talk about this anymore? It fucking sucks.” Dan let out a breath. “I’m sorry you had to see Emily today.”

“I’m not… and I know it’s fucked up, but I’m not.”

Dan gave Nick another one of those small smiles, but this one Nick probably couldn’t even see. “Good night.”

“Night, Dan.”

 

They spent the next day mostly in bed. They did rock, paper, scissors to decide who had to get out and get food. Dan lost and just brought them back a couple spoons and a carton freezer-burned ice cream he’d had shoved underneath some frozen vegetables. They napped and fucked around on their phones and laptops and watched some shitty old movies they’d found on netflix.

The next day they at least got out of the bed and had some protein, but they still just moped around the sofa in the lounge. The next day it was the same, but with take out and then finally,  _ finally,  _ the next day _ ,  _ they both decided to suck it up and actually do something before they got reported missing, so Dan suggested they make that gaming vid together that he’d mentioned in his liveshow.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dan asked, adjusting his video camera. He had to set it up a little differently to get both of them in frame.

Nick sat down in an extra chair Dan had dragged into the gaming room. “Yeah, I need a distraction.”

“Mario Kart?” Dan asked “Or like do you want to try something totally different?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I do these games like would you rather or like google feud or we could do quickdraw?”

“Dude, whatever you want.” Nick leaned back in the chair. “What do you think the people would want to see us do?”

“I think that would get demonetized.”

There was a moment of silence between them, then Nick said, “Do you want to just play Mario Kart?”

“Yeah, works for me.”

So, that’s what they did. They pretty much played Mario Kart like they always do except the camera was on and Dan was ‘on’ in the way he almost always was on camera, and in the end Dan won, and then Nick told the story about how playing Mario Kart was one of the first things they’d done together and Nick had won, and Dan said he let him win. He might edit that part out later. There was something a little ‘romantic’ about the idea of Dan letting Nick win and honestly, at the time, it might have been. Had Dan actually let Nick win which, of course, he hadn’t. But back then, Dan hadn’t been a hundred percent sure of Nick’s intentions. It  _ could’ve  _ been romantically intended, if he’d done it—which, again—he hadn’t.

When they were finished, Nick yawned and stood up from his chair. “Do you have to edit it right now?”

“No. Why?”

“We did some work—well  _ your  _ work—and like as helpful of a distraction as that was, I feel like we need to get out of the house.”

Dan gave Nick a withered look. “Out of the house? Gross.”

“Dan, come on. I’m in London with my best friend and we haven’t just gone out since I got here.”

“That’s literally not like weird for me, Nick. When I make jokes in videos and to you over text about not going out, I’m not exaggerating.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” Nick frowned.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. How ‘out’ are we talking?”

Nick turned his head back toward his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. “A bar…?”

“With food,” Dan added. “Good food.”

“So like a restaurant?” Nick said flatly, like he was really disappointed in Dan for suggesting they just go to a restaurant. 

“Now, you’re talking.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “We’re going to a bar.”

“ _ Nick. _ ”

“A gay bar."

“You have fun at that gay bar by yourself.” Dan really did not feel like going out right now. He wanted to stay and mope. They’d been moping. What was wrong with continued moping?

Nick grabbed the back of Dan’s rolling chair and started to pull it across the floor. “Fine. We’ll go to an everyone bar, that way we can both get laid.”

“Uh… Nick… not to put a cramp in your style, but you have a girlfriend.”

Nick stopped pulling Dan and the chair spun around for Dan to face him. “Um, not technically.”

“You broke up?” Dan stood from his chair, shaking his head. 

“You think I’d have spent the last month sleeping in your bed, if I still had a girlfriend.”

“You’ve already been here for a _ month _ ?” Dan said, though he knew that’s not where his head should be right now. 

“I know, right?”

“But seriously, what happened?”

Nick shrugged. “I dunno. Things were getting serious, like I said, and it just… it didn’t feel right? It felt too soon for something serious and I didn’t want to mislead her.”

“I’m… God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Nick said. He put on a smile “Except for the part where I’m really broken up about it and you have to take me out to a bar to make me feel better?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You win, mate. Let’s go.” 

Nick was probably right anyway. Sitting around feeling sorry for themselves wasn’t actually doing them any favors. A change of scenery might do Dan some good.

  
  


They changed into presentable clothes—Dan wore his ripped black jeans, grey t-shirt and new sequined jacket—and went to one bar and got a few drinks, but it was mostly empty and ‘boring’ according to Nick, so they decided to walk a few blocks to a different bar. On the way, Dan noticed a few flashes and Nick muttered “fucking paps” under his breath, and they turned to take a different path.

This bar was kind of swanky, in comparison to the last one, and some of the drinks were even glowing like they were radioactive. It wasn’t a club, but it was more like a club than the last place they’d been at-- louder music, more people, maybe a little younger demographic.. And, wow, Dan didn’t really go out enough to be able to explain these places or understand how they fit in context with each other, but it’s not like it really mattered. 

“See.” Nick slung an arm around Dan’s waist. “This is what we need. Out and about in the real world. Not thinking about dorky princes or uptight, beautiful managers—god, she’s so beautiful. I hate her.”

Dan grabbed Nick’s hand and pulled it back off of him. “Did you drink more than I thought you did?”

“I just can’t hold my liquor, you know that?”

Dan knew for a fact that wasn’t true. “Stop pretending to be drunk, Nick.”

Nick sighed. “Fine. But you seriously need to loosen up. This place is full of hot dudes—and ladies. I know you’re still into women, and like look at that one.” He pointed to an admittedly beautiful redhead sitting alone, reading. 

“What kind of person reads in a bar?” Like what, an airplane runway wasn’t loud enough for her?

“Seriously, Dan, when’s the last time you’ve had sex?” Nick asked.

"Last night.” Dan glared at him. “With your mum.”

Nick gave him a wide, cheeky grin. “So  _ that’s _ what you call your left hand?”

Dan took the opportunity to flip Nick off with his left hand. Nick just laughed. 

But, even still, what Nick said wasn’t a hundred percent wrong. It  _ had _ been awhile since he’d had sex. Probably like four months ago. It wasn’t anything special. Just a blond on Grindr that didn’t  _ not _ look like Tom Holland. It wasn’t bad sex, but it was just sex and he never saw the guy again after that. He hadn’t even been on the apps—not even the hook up ones—in months and Nick wasn’t wrong. Dan missed sex. Like, a lot.

So maybe he  _ could  _ do that tonight. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe it would jar him out of whatever rut he’d let himself slip into—a rut that just happened to be kind of cozy and full of dad jokes and corgi print and— _ fuck,  _ he needed to get under someone like immediately.

That meant having to talk to strangers, and  _ that  _ meant needing a drink.

“Whatever,” Dan said. “You’re right. Let’s get a drink.”

 

There wasn’t much left in Dan’s drink but lime and ice when he noticed the man looking at him. Nick had gone off to talk to the reading red-head, leaving Dan alone at the bar. Well, until, that man walked up and sat a few seats down.

He had messy brown hair, and a white graphic t-shirt under a worn-looking leather jacket. Dan looked down at his feet. They were actually nice leather boots, with a few interesting details. Shoes, he thought, were always a good sign of a person’s fashion sense, and Dan cared about fashion. The guy’s tight jeans weren’t bad either. 

And Dan wasn’t good at being discreet clearly because the man eyed him back, blinking slowly. There was something so inherently sexual in that look that it almost scared Dan until he remembered that this was what he was here for, and that guy was totally his type.

Dan could feel himself blush and he bit his lip and looked down.

The man stood from his seat and walked a few feet over so he was right beside Dan, standing and looking down at him.

“Can I get you a drink?” the man asked. His voice was deep, a little gravelly. “What’re you drinking?”

Dan had been drinking a Moscow Mule but he wasn’t feeling up to more vodka. “I’ll, uh, I could go for a glass of wine actually.”

“Red or white?”

“Rose?” Dan bit his lip, and looked down at the glass in the man’s hand. “What’re you drinking?”

After ordering Dan’s wine from the bartender, he man sat his mostly empty glass down on the bar. “Oh, it’s just, whiskey.” He put his hand out. “I’m Andrew, by the way.”

Dan hesitated, but then accepted the handshake. “Dan.”

A smile melted onto the man’s face as he sat down at the barstool. “It’s good to meet you, Dan.”

_ It’s fine to meet you,  _ Dan’s mind supplied, but that was kind of rude so he said, “Yeah, uh, you too.”

“So, what do you do?”

The bartender handed Dan his wine. “Thank you,” Dan said to the bartender before turning his attention back to Andrew. “I’m…” He never liked saying I make YouTube videos. Too many questions so he just answered, “Video editing, mostly. You?”

“I’m a financial analyst.”

“ _ Really?” _

“Does that surprise you?” Andrew scooted a little closer, his voice lowering even more. He smelled like generic cologne. It wasn’t bad. It just was.

“I don’t know.” Dan shrugged. “You don’t really look like a financial analyst.”

Andrew trapped his chest, ratting the zips on his leather jacket. “You should see me at work, when I’m wearing my pocket protector.”

This actually made Dan laugh a little, which seemed to relax them both, and they were able to sit there and make small talk while Dan sipped his rose which was too dry for his taste but not terrible. It wasn’t a hard conversation. Andrew seemed clever enough and he had the kind of crooked smile that Dan would’ve swiped right on tinder for. 

Dan was just a bit buzzed, said something that made himself laugh.

“You have the cutest dimples, you know that?” Andrew’s voice sounded softer now, intimate, like he was ready to get to the purpose they’d both known this conversation always had, but Dan was trying not to think about.

“My cheek deformities?” he said to deflect. 

“Cute cheek deformities.” Andrew pressed his thumb into one of Dan’s dimples. He left his thumb there, then laid his fingers across Dan’s cheek to cup his face.

Fuck _ ,  _ he was nervous. Fuck, it had been awhile since he’d done anything like this.  _ Keep it together, Dan. This guy is fine. You’re fine. _

“Andrew…” Dan dropped his eyes down to the bar top. 

Andrew’s hand moved to play with Dan’s hoop earring. “Am I reading this wrong?”

_ Shit.  _ This was really happening, and that was good, wasn’t it? It was. Dan wanted to get laid. “No… no.”

There was that melting smile again. “Good. I’m glad.” Andrew laid his other hand on Dan’s thigh, and touched the skin under the rip of his jeans. “It’s a little loud in here. Hard to talk, don’t you think?”

Dan just stared down at where Andrew was touching him, trying to figure out how to  feel about it. “Yeah…”

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but my flat isn’t far from here… and you’re _ very  _ pretty.“

There it was. The invitation to go back to his place where they’d probably pretend they were going to talk and drink a beer or something but before long, Dan would end up on his back in an unfamiliar bed with a stranger between his legs. A stranger he’d probably never talk to again after that.

“Dan?”

Dan put his hand over Andrew’s on his leg and moved it away. “I… I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”

Andrew’s eyes were wide. He looked surprised. “Oh, okay. That’s fine. I’m sorry if I misunderstood or made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. You seem really great, Dan.”

Dan shook his head and let out a breath. “No. God, no. It’s not… I  _ should _ go back to your flat. I  _ should _ shag you, mate. That’s the healthy thing to do, but I just… oh, oh fuck.” Dan put a hand over his mouth and rubbed his jaw. 

_ It’s just… you’re not him. _

Andrew gave him an understanding smile. “What’s his name?”

“Phil.” Maybe Dan shouldn’t have said it, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t an extremely common name. It wasn’t like Andrew would know who he meant. 

“No chance I could make you forget about this Phil?”

“I don’t think so.” He wasn’t sure anything could make him forget, and he was even less sure that he’d want to forget. Dan started to walk away and then looked back toward Andrew and the bar. “Can I like pay you back for the drink or something?”

Andrew shook his head. “Nah, It’s fine. I didn’t buy you a drink just to get you into bed, though I really wanted to—like a lot.” He smiled. “You’re like  _ so _ hot.”

He was thankful the guy was nice about it. Some guys definitely were not when you changed your mind about wanting to fuck them.

Dan laughed. “Sorry, I wasted your time. Have a good night.” He was pivoting to walk away when Andrew’s voice stopped him.

“Hey, Dan, wait for a sec.”

Dan looked back at him. “Yeah?”

“Can I give you my number, you know, in case you ever change your mind? Because like  _ so  _ hot…” He bit his lip and looked Dan up and down. “And pretty and… god dammit, I hate this Phil guy.”

Dan just shook his head and laughed. Maybe it was stupid to take it, maybe it was stupid not to. He might not be feeling up for a fuck tonight, but it didn’t change the facts of the situation regarding him and Prince Philip. That every odd imaginable was stacked against Dan getting what he wanted there. It just didn’t. “Just gimme your number,” Dan said, with a half smile.

Andrew smiled back at him, then grabbed a pen from the bartender, scribbled his name and number on a bar napkin and handed it to Dan.

 

Dan located Nick who was still with the red-head but had moved to some more comfortable seating, and was between the red-head and another woman, a blonde with a sleeve of tattoos.

“I’m heading home,” Dan said.

“Really?” Nick turned away from the girls he was talking to. “It looked like you hit it off with that guy.”

Dan shrugged. “Eh, not really.  But you have fun.”

“You sure?” Nick asked. “I can go with you.”

“Nah, mate. You look… busy.” With that, Dan headed out of the bar and back onto the street.

 

It was late—half past midnight—and Dan was ready to flop into bed the moment he stepped into his flat. As he was undressing, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and Andrew’s number fell onto the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up, but he did stare down at his phone, just stared down at it, and thought about what had happened tonight. About why he’d walked away from a very hot sure thing to just go to bed alone.

He unlocked his phone with his thumb and then, God help him, he opened up his text messages and clicked on his thread with Phil. 

Dan: Hey, how are you?”

Dan let out a nervous breath and just stared down at the phone. Did he just make a total idiot of himself? Did he just inconvenience or annoy the future king of England with the most boring, vague question ever because he had a stupid, immature crush? 

He was about to close out of the messages app and slip his phone back in his pocket and die of embarrassment, when he saw it. Three little dots—three wonderful, beautiful dots—to tell him the prince was writing him back. 

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

Phil: Good, now. How are you?

Dan smiled, lighting up from the inside. The prince had texted him back. Had actually texted him back, with no work thing hanging over their heads. He tried to think of an appropriate response. Something that was true, but also didn’t make him sound like a total loser. 

Dan: same. have a bunch of editing to do tomorrow though :(

Phil: I’m sorry. I have back to back meetings all day, and then my mum’s talked me into seeing a trainer

Dan: trainer for what?

Phil: A gym trainer. 

_ Duh. Oh my God, Dan. You absolute flop. Of course he meant gym trainer. _

Dan: right lmao sorry. you going to get super swol like thor muscles?

Phil: Well, I was just planning on running on the treadmill and like learning to use a few of the machines… but now that you mention thor

Dan: lol you a big chris hemsworth fan?

Phil: you’ve seen him, right? 

When Dan read that text, his stomach flipped. Was he reading into that what he wanted to see or…? Or was that actually the prince expressing male attraction? Dan should probably just chill and stop all this wishful thinking. Even if the prince was attracted to fucking Chris Hemsworth that did not translate into him being into Dan’s flat pancake ass.

Dan: i have. he’s not really my type though.

Was that too far? Should he have said that? Dan laid back on his bed as he waited for Phil’s reply.  He nearly jumped when he saw it pop up.

Phil: Well, then what’s your type?

_ You. You. You.  _

Dan couldn’t answer with that, and he couldn’t answer seriously because it would still sound like dark hair and bright eyes and delicate hands. 

Dan: cyborgs mainly.

Phil: Oh really? I’m more of a full robot kind of man.

Dan: i thought you were into coffee beans?

Dan typed out the reply before realizing that maybe Phil didn’t remember their conversation. It had been a while now, and if Phil didn’t remember he would look really fucking weird.

Phil: Don’t try to put me in a box, Dan.

He smiled. Phil had a perfect reply. Of course, he did. This—somehow—was so easy for them.

Dan: I would never.

He reached up and touched his cheek. They were sore already from how intensely he’d been smiling without even realizing it. 

Phil: so what did you do today?

There was something about that question that was better than all the other texts because this one stood on it’s own. They’d come to what could have been the natural conclusion of their conversation, but Phil didn’t just let it stop. He started a whole new one.

Dan: not much. filmed a gaming vid with Nick, then we went out to some bars. What did you do, or is it top secret?

He almost left out the bar part, but it wasn’t like saying he went to a bar meant he’d gone to hook up. And it also wasn’t like the prince cared at all whether or not Dan had hooked up with someone. 

Phil: Bar hopping? Very exciting. I mean, I’d have no way of knowing but I’ve read books.

Dan: you’ve read books about bar hopping?

Phil: The Royal Library is extensive. 

Phil: Oh, and I didn’t do anything exciting today. I literally had a meeting about another meeting.

Dan: you lead a truly glamorous life.

He just couldn’t help but tease Phil. It somehow came naturally to him—the teasing. Well, he could call it teasing, but he knew what it was, what he was really doing, whether Phil did or not. Dan was flirting. 

Phil: I know, right? Oh and I took Sam for a walk.

Dan: and how is sam?

Phil didn’t immediately reply to Dan, which lowered his spirits a little, made him remember that he was probably indulging a crush he should not be indulging, but then another text came through. A picture.

It was Sam, his big puffy dog head resting on Phil’s slender legs.

Phil: He’s good. He’s keeping my legs warm. Do you have any pets, Dan?

Dan: Nope. I just have cold, empty legs.

He pushed through his nerves and took a photo his black shorts and his bare knees and sent it.

Phil: :(( If you were here you could have sam’s butt side. he’s long enough.

Dan snort-laughed. He could not at all believe the prince had just sent that to him.  _ Butt side.  _ What the fuck? It was so much that it nearly completely distracted from the fact that Phil had mentioned Dan being there, with him, at home.  _ Fuck.  _

Dan: there’s nothing i love more than a good fluffy butt.

Phil: So your type is cyborgs with fluffy butts?

Dan: it explains why I’m single. 

Phil: i mean, you have limited your dating pool extensively. 

_ Yeah,  _ Dan thought,  _ all the way down to you.  _

They chatted for a while longer, but eventually Dan couldn’t even keep his eyes open. They’d both made some jokes about being tired and sleep deprived so before Dan just fell asleep and Phil thought he was rude for not replying, Dan said good night.

Phil: Night, Dan :)

Dan: good luck with your trainer tomorrow.

Phil: Thanks! Good luck with your editing.

Dan woke up at about noon the next day. He was expecting to be alone, but when he looked over he saw Nick passed out on the covers, still dressed, and snoring.

Just to be a little shit, Dan walked over and opened the shades letting in a cascade of light. Nick thrashed around like he was some sort of vampire-gremlin hurrying to shield his face with his hands.

“Morning, Cupcake,” Dan said.

“Fuck you,” Nick grumbled.

“I love you too.”

Nick yawned and sat up, scratching at his head and blinking his eyes. Dan reached back to open one of his dresser drawers without paying much attention, when he turned to grab a shirt out of it, he realize he wasn’t looking down at his own clothes.

“Nick, did you put your clothes in my dresser?”

“Uh, yeah, I mean that drawer was empty—and i’m sick of pulling everything out of a suitcase.”

“Oh.” Dan wasn’t really sure how to react to this. He didn’t particularly mind. He liked Nick being here, but was it getting weird? Nick was sleeping in his bed every night—not working very much—and now he’d settled in, his stuff in Dan’s drawers. 

Nick got out of the bed. “Is that okay? If it’s not, man—”

“It’s fine. I’m not sure I fully understand, like did you get into some sort of weird pyramid scheme and lose all your money and that’s why you’re here? Because I live in a mediocre flat and you’re a millionaire.”

“You’re a millionaire too, buddy.”

It was always hard to think of himself like that because it’s not like he had a million dollars in a bank account. He had a lot but not  _ that  _ much. But yeah, if he added up all his investments, he was a millionaire. A couple times over. 

“Not like you are. Or were. Before you lost all your money in this pyramid scheme.”

Nick frowned and let out a sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I’m kind of… scared right now. After Emily left me, I just sort of drowned myself in that album. It sucked but I had direction and inspiration—as dark as some of it was—but now that it’s out and successful and whatever, I just don’t know what to do, you know? I tried dating seriously and that didn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t let it and, last night, I hooked up, and  _ nothing.  _ It was fine, but I don’t want to do it again. It felt kind of… sad, which doesn’t make sense. I’m just confused.”

“Look, Nick. I know it’s not the same, but I think I kind of get it. You know I spent so long just trying to put myself together, depression recovery or whatever, and I’ll always be… it’ll always be a part of me to some degree, but I feel like I have a handle on it now, mostly, most of time, and so much of my life was dedicated to that, that now it’s like ‘okay, where do all my emotions go now’? Like I’m free to just  _ live  _ but I’m not sure I know how.”

“I get that, man,” Nick said. “Sorry about the stuff in your drawers…”

“God, no, it’s fine, mate. Just maybe, if you want, we can get you your own dresser. I don’t really have much of a spare room, but you can sleep in the gaming room, unless your fine in here.”

“I’m fine in here… if you’re fine with me in here.”

“I’m fine with you in here.” Dan’s lips quirked into a smile. “I mean, eventually, the government might send you back to the states.”

“I kind of applied for a visa, like a long term one. I…I like it here.”

Dan blinked. He was definitely not expecting that. “Really?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, and if that doesn’t work out, you’ll have to marry me so I can stay.”

Dan laughed. “I think I read that fic once.”

Across the room, Dan noticed the screen of his phone lighting up on the nightstand. He walked over and picked it up. It was a message from Phil. A photo message.

He opened it up and when he saw what it was, a smile immediately stretched across his face. Phil was smiling awkwardly, holding a bottle of water and wearing a bright yellow headband.

Phil: I’m gonna get so fit.

_ You’re already fit as fuck. _

Phil: Watch out Chris Hemsworth, Old Philly is coming for you.

Dan: good morning, phil. 

Phil: Sorry. I’ve had a bunch of coffee again.

Dan: yeah lmao you seem kind of zazzed, but seriously good luck with… what was it again? Jazzercize. ;)

“Who the hell are you texting?” Nick was pulling his t-shirt. He was still in his clothes from the night before. “I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

“Well… kind of the prince,” he rushed the words.

Nick’s mouth dropped open. “Oh… wow, really?”

“Yeah, um, after I left the bar last night I just figured like what the hell, you know? I think we might actually be able to be like friends or something.”

“Are you okay with that? Just being friends with him?”

“Yeah, you know. I mean do I want to kiss him right on the mouth every time I see him? Maybe. But like just having in my life at all, in any capacity, is cool, you know?”

“I get it.” Nick smiled at him, unbuttoning his jeans. “I’m glad you have that.” He reached into the drawer of Dan’s dresser filled with his own stuff and threw a pair of jeans onto the bed.

“I’m going to go make some cereal. Want some?”

“Nah,” Nick said. “That stuff is loaded with sugar. I bought us some eggs the other day. I’ll make those.”

Phone in hand, he headed downstairs to the kitchen. He was opening a box of Crunchy Nut and pouring himself a bowl, when he felt his phone vibrate.

Phil: What are you up to right now?

Dan took a picture of the Crunchy Nut box and the bowl beside it, and sent it to Phil.

Phil: No fair. 

Dan: but i’m feeling bad about it. nick just guilt tripped me about eating all this sugar.

     Phil: Sugar is the spice of life, Dan. 

Dan: Words of wisdom from my prince.

Phil: :)) stitch it onto a throw pillow. tattoo it on your eyelids.

Leaning over the kitchen counter, Dan took a bite of his cereal. But it was hard to eat when you were smiling that much.

Dan: watch out. i might actually do it, and then tell everyone you told me to. start some serious media discourse about what a terrible influence you are.

Phil: I am. So edgy. Edgy prince. I have to go warm up my hamstrings now apparently. I’ll let you know how Jazzercise goes. ;)

Dan: Oh, please do.

Dan slipped his phone into his pocket and picked up his bowl of cereal. He sat down with it at the table as Nick was coming into the kitchen to make his eggs. Dan watched as Nick opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs. All Dan’s normal stuff was still in the fridge, there was also a lot of stuff he normally wouldn’t buy. Nick was and probably had been buying groceries and keeping them here. He wondered how many other cupboards were filled with the things that Nick had bought. Not that was he was complaining. It was kind of free food. He doubted Nick would care if he ate any of it.

After Dan finished with his cereal, he decided against editing and went to his room to work on a dinof vid instead. He could edit anytime, but he needed inspiration to do a dinof vid and, for some reason, he was feeling inspired today. Dan was toying with the idea of making a semi-serious video about what he and Nick had talked about that morning—about what it feels like to try and figure yourself out again and again over the years. How there’s never really this moment that you get through something and find yourself. How life is more of a series of events that remake you over and over again.

He was scribbling down a tangle of ideas when he felt his phone buzz again. It could be anyone, but he really hoped it was Phil. God, how he hoped.

It was. He felt warmth spread through him like he’d sipped a cup of tea, then he read the text.

Phil: I don’t feel well. :(((((((

Dan: what? are you okay? what happened?

Phil: I’m not going to tell you because it’s gross but I want to go far, far away. Do you have an attic in your house I can live in? I’ll be quiet. You can feed me cereal through the vents.

Dan: phil, what’s going on? you can tell me whatever. i don’t care. i once had to help nick with this weird infection.

He sent that and then realized how it sounded. 

Dan: not weird like sti weird just normal weird. it was gross, almost certainly grosser than whatever you’re going to say.

Phil: Are you sure?

Dan: y e s

Phil: Tell no one. But I sicked in my mouth and then swallowed it. I just swallowed it Dan.

Dan: oh my god. what? why?

Phil: You can’t hear me but i’m groaning in shame. The trainer I was seeing today was Martyn’s old trainer and Martyn was significantly more fit than me. He could do a handstand. On one arm.

Dan: okay…

Phil: So he thought I wanted a much more intense work out than I did. He made me flip a tire.

Dan: what??

Phil: I guess that’s what Martyn would do. 

It was just Dan’s instinct to feel protective, he guessed. Like he wanted to find out who this guy was and give him a piece of his mind. Phil had just told Dan that all he wanted to do was learn how to run on the treadmill.

Dan: That’s stupid. He’s a personal trainer. He should’ve tailored it to fit you.

Phil: I guess he just assumed I could handle it. And when I told him I just kind of wanted to run on the treadmill, you know, of course, that’s what we did but I could tell he was disappointed.

Dan: He sounds like a twat

Dan: Sorry

Phil: He was just trying to do his job and he knows more about it than I do and I don’t like acting like I know everything just because of my title. Because if anything, it probably means I know less.

Dan had always noticed that Phil seemed much kinder, much more down-to-earth than he’d ever expected a royal to be, but this trainer just sounded like an ass who wasn’t listening, and for some reason, Dan just kept feeling himself getting angrier and angrier. 

Dan: you know yourself though.

Phil: Yeah, and I was just so dizzy from the tire flipping, and then I was running on the treadmill and it was fine but then he started turning up the speed and I was feeling even more dizzy and then, oh my god, i just felt it coming and threw up. In my mouth, Dan. And then, I just swallowed it. Like I said. *hides forever* 

Dan: oh my god, phil.

Phil: I didn’t want to say anything because he had that look on his face.

Dan: what look?

Phil: oh, you know, the he’s not martyn look. 

Dan let out a breath and rubbed his hand over his jaw. It hurt him to know just how much Phil was seeing everything being said, everything comparing him to his Prince Martyn, and how everything Phil did seemed to come up short to the future king everyone felt they were supposed to have. 

Dan: you don’t need to be him, you know? you’re you.

Phil: I know I’m me, Dan. I’m reminded constantly.

He said that like it was a bad thing, and that just broke Dan’s heart. He had so much more he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to say it right.

Dan: Well, I think you’re alright ;)

Phil: I’m glad.

Phil: I think you’re alright too.

Dan: You’re not going to work with him anymore, are you? 

Dan really hoped not because that guy seemed like a total jerk. The last thing people needed to be doing was constantly comparing Phil to Martyn, but it’s like they couldn’t stop. He saw it everywhere and he was sick of it. He couldn’t imagine how sick of it Phil must be. How the constant reminder must hurt.

Phil: No. I think I’ll just have to live with not being fit.

Dan: maybe just like take sam for a walk every once in a while. 

Phil: Outside?

Dan smiled. It was weird, seeing how much he and Phil had in common. Like every time they talked he ended up just feeling more connected to him. 

Dan: i know it sounds terrible but sometimes it’s not the worst. like if you go with a friend or something.

They kept talking on and off throughout the day, and Dan was actually surprised that he got a whole script for a dinof video written out, even with his mind getting pulled away to the conversation on his phone. It was almost as if, being able to talk to Phil, was distracting the part of his brain that was normally preoccupied with second-guessing all of his creative ideas and making him feel like he wasn’t good enough.

He was about to quit for the day and go eat some dinner when he got another text message from the prince.

Phil: Are you busy right now?

Dan: Just finished working for the day.

Phil: Yeah, me too. You know the thing you were saying about walks with friends being healthy?

Dan: yeah?

Phil didn’t immediately respond so Dan started heading out of his room down to the kitchen. He was probably going to scrape together something to eat. He had a jar for two of chinese chicken and two people in the house for once, so half of it wouldn’t go to waste.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Phil: No worries if you can’t, I know it’s last minute, but I could use a walk if you could.

Dan froze, jar for two in one hand, phone in the other, half still leaning into the open fridge. Had Phil just… he  _ had.  _ But he couldn’t have? He had.

When his body finally caught up to his brain, he shut the refrigerator door, leaving the jar for two inside. 

Dan: where can we meet? and when?

Dan was expecting Phil to reply with Kensington Palace or something like that—he did live there after all and there were grounds to walk on and security and all that. 

Phil: This is going to sound super weird, but how far are you from the Tower of London?

It didn’t really matter how far away Dan was. The thought scared him, but Dan knew it was true. He’d go as far Phil wanted him to. 

  
  



	15. Chapter 15

When Dan arrived at the Tower of London, he walked to its entrance to find it closed. The shut gates didn’t help calm his already panicky nerves, but he settled himself down as he waited. Everything had to be fine. Phil had to be here. He’d invited Dan here. To go on a walk with him. A last minute, evening walk with him. Un- _ fucking _ -believable.

Dan hadn’t just imagined it, right? Just like deluded himself out of sheer force of want. 

Dan was in the process of pulling out his phone to text Phil when he was greeted by Maxwell, who’d come walking through the gates with a confident stride.

Maxwell let Dan in, and they exchanged pleasantries as they angled down a ramp, then turned between imposing turrets to cross a bridge that spanned a greenbelt. It had clearly once been a moat surrounding the Tower of London, and it was easy to imagine it being filled with water in a time long past, to block out intruders, like something out Game of Thrones. 

The walk without Phil went on longer than Dan wished it would. Maxwell was the stoic, silent type, and Dan was the talk too much when he was nervous type. Every query about Maxwell’s feelings (a simple ‘how are you?’) or his day (a simple ‘what’d you do today’?) were shot down quickly though politely. Dan didn’t know if Maxwell hated him or if Dan was just that insignificant, and either way, Dan had no idea how to shift the man’s favor in his direction.

Maxwell turned and Dan followed him, under another archway. Before stepping under the cool cover of the rock, Dan looked up to see a small black sign hanging above him- that read Bloody Tower, 1225.

They emerged onto a pathway cutting through the lightly browning autumn lawns of the tower grounds. Ahead of him was an imposing white tower that sat at the center of what had likely been a full-functioning town or village of its own. He could less impressive buildings of the sides, of brown and red brick.

A chilly wind swept through and rattled the richly-colored leaves still clinging to worn out branches. Dan was glad for the new coat he’d spent too much on that was keeping him warm. 

“Sam. Calm down.  _ Sam! _ ” Phil shouted, suddenly coming in to view from behind a tree. He hurried across the grounds chasing after Sam, who was dragging his lead.

Sam barreled into Dan, but he was ready for it this time and had braced himself for impact. “ _ Oof.  _ Oh dear.” He knelt down a little and ruffled Sam’s fur. “Hello. There you are. Hi there, Sam.” Sam gave him a big slurp up his ear as if to say hello back. 

Dan stood back up, making sure to grab hold Sam’s lead as he did. He didn’t want the dog to run off, but it seemed like he’d probably get away if he wanted to badly enough. Sam was a big dog--and strong too.

Phil was catching his breath. “Sorry about him. I thought…” he bit his lip. “Well, I’d hired a trainer, but—”

“It’s fine,”—Dan’s eyes cast several yards over to where Maxwell had lingered back.—“sir. Like totally fine. Don’t even think about it.”

Phil’s brow furrowed and lips tipped into a small frown. “Why are you…” He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, Dan, you don’t have to call me sir just because Maxwell is here. He knows we’re friends.”

_ Friends. Friends. Friends,  _ Dan’s mind supplied, very maturely.

One of those thoughts escaped. “Friends?”

“Well, I like to think so.” Phil’s voice was quiet, a hand tucked into the pocket of his coat. He looked cozy like that, bundled up in a navy blue peacoat. 

“We are,” Dan matched the tone of Phil’s voice, then loosened it up into something less serious as they started to walk up the path. “So what happened with the trainer?” He wanted to switch the subject and get them talking about something that didn’t send him into an internal tailspin.

Phil shrugged. “She kept telling me I needed to be the alpha and like… well…” he gestured to himself.

Dan didn’t quite understand sometimes why Phil was so self-effacing. Phil wouldn’t understand it either, if he could see himself the way Dan saw him. Besides, there was nothing wrong with not being domineering. Quite the contrary. He wished Phil could see that, but he imagined it was harder in his position. 

“Eh, I’m pretty sure all that alpha stuff is bullshit anyway,” Dan said, trying for reassuring but not sure he was achieving it. “Like it doesn’t even explain real wolf behavior. It’s been totally taken out of context. I read that once when I was on a Wikipedia spiral.”

“I don’t know. All my mother’s corgis are well behaved, and Sam, well, he used to be. Mostly.”

Dan looked down at Sam who had jumped the guardrail and was happily sniffing the grass. A large black bird scuttled out of the bushes and flapped off. Sam stiffened, almsot like he was going to try and chase after it, but then backed off.

“Maybe he’s not behaving now just because…” Dan stopped himself before he finished. That was not something he had any right to bring up.

“Because of what? It’s okay, Dan. You can tell me what you’re thinking.”

Dan almost lied, but he couldn’t think of something else quick enough. “I was just going to say maybe it’s not because Prince Martyn was like the alpha or whatever. Maybe it’s just because Sam misses him and he’s like sad and acting out. Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize. I think he does, you know, still miss Martyn. I mean I do… but anyway, that’s a little… maybe we should lighten the mood a bit.” Phil gave Dan an awkward smile. Phil had a practiced smile—one he gave to cameras—and then he had this one. He probably had lots of others too, and Dan could only hope to see them one day. To name them.

“How are you able to be here, right now?” Dan asked. “I mean, like… there’s nobody else here. Isn’t there usually, you know, people?”

“The tower closes early for maintenance every month or so, and when it does, I usually try to make it out here.”

“But it’s  _ outside _ .”

“It’s an exception,” he said simply.

“Why? I just mean like, it’s beautiful here, don’t get me wrong, but so is Kensington Palace and like lots of other places that aren’t…?” 

“Former prisons?” Phil supplied.

“Well, yeah.”

Phil laughed. “It wasn’t originally intended as a prison. The tower was a royal residence, as well. And an armory and the treasury. The Royal Mint, for a period. But, I mean, yes, I concede, it’s mostly known for its role as a prison.” 

“A lot of people were killed here, right? It’s just kind of dark. I didn’t really peg you as the type to be into the dark shit. Not that that’s a bad thing.” 

Phil gave Dan a slight nudge with his shoulder. For a moment, Dan wondered if he had any part of his body besides that shoulder. Nothing but that spot where they’d playfully touched seemed real.

“I thought we already established that I am a very edgy prince,” Phil said. “My favorite author is Stephen King, you know.”

Dan nudged him back, though he could barely believe he’d had the guts to do it. “Do you have a favorite book, then? And you’re not allowed to say  _ The Shining _ .”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Dan reeled Sam in closer when he saw the dog eyeing a squirrel. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up being the one to walk the dog but he was more than alright with that. It made him feel invited in, trusted.

“Okay, then, what is it?” Dan asked.

Phil stopped, then placed his hands over Sam’s ears and whispered, “ _ Pet Sematary _ .”

“Jesus,” Dan snorted. “That _ is _ dark and, again, we’re shit at lightening the mood.”

They kept on their walk, moving further in. 

“Have you ever been here before?” Phil asked.

“No, actually. I mean I’ve gone past it, obviously, but I’ve never like had a tour of it or anything. My family was never too big into like tourist-y stuff.” He carried that with him, he guessed, into adulthood when he’d taken the plunge and finally moved to London. He’d never really gone around the city and seen the sights.

“This counts as tourist-y?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, like, for sure.”

Phil dropped his shoulders, a curious expression appearing on his face. “I mean, I guess I just don’t think of it that way. I’ve never been here when there are other people, except Calvin.”

“Who’s Calvin?”

“Oh, just the Ravensmaster.” Phil jogged ahead down a path to the left. He looked perked up, excited. It was nice to see him like this—away from work. “Come along, Dan. This way.”

Dan tugged Sam’s lead gently to get him to follow. “Are we going somewhere in particular?”

Phil turned around. He was smiling, his normally neat quiff wind-swept. “Not in particular. I just have a lot to show you, if you haven’t been here before.” 

Dan caught up to him. “You’re giving me a tour?”

“An abridged and unqualified one but yes.” Phil looked up to the looming castle besides them, and its white-washed bricks. “Do you know who built the White Tower?”

“I thought you were giving me a tour, not a pop quiz,” Dan replied playfully. He didn’t really want to admit that he didn’t know. History had never been his favorite subject in school, and, forgive him, Dan was vain enough to want to impress Phil.

“Construction was begun by William I, but overseen by Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester.”

“Gundulf is a great name.” Dan reached down to pat Sam’s head. “We should change Sam’s name to Gundulf.” Dan had no idea why he said it like that.  _ We.  _ Like Sam was their dog. God, he was an idiot.

Phil put his hands on his hips and stared down at Sam. He seemed not to notice the part where Dan had been an idiot.

“Sit, Gundulf,” Phil said.

The dog just woofed back at him, then kept trotting along, following an invisible scent with nose. 

“Oi, it was worth a shot,” Dan said with a laugh.

They chatted cordially and easily as they carried on down the path, which had widened and looked more modern than the original path they’d been on. Even though Maxwell was around, he was out of earshot, and he was good enough at his job that it was easy for Dan to forget he was there and easy for him to pretend they were totally alone.

Dan was in the middle of explaining why he doesn’t upload as often as he likes when he saw three massive, prowling feline forms glaring across a gap at him.

He gasped, jumped back, before his mind could make sense of what he was seeing. Could process that they weren’t real.

He pointed to the lion statues. “What  _ are  _ those?”

“The tower was a zoo for over six hundred years,” Phil said. “The statues were commissioned a few years back. I wish they’d have had them when I was a kid, I would’ve loved them.”

“This place was a zoo?”

“Technically, it was a menagerie. Polar bears, elephants, kangaroos. Even lions.” They walked by sculpted, wire visages as Phil continued. “Henry III was given three lions by the Holy Roman Emperor and he kept them here. That’s what started it all. Over the years, others added to the collection.”

The history of this place was interesting, but Dan was honestly more interested in the history of the man standing beside him, so he just had to ask.

“So you liked animals as kid?”

“Lions, mostly. I had an absolute fascination with them. My brother called it an obsession, but he always had this gift for liking things an appropriate amount that I just absolutely did not.”

“They _ are _ like jungle royalty,” Dan joked. Because apparently he always had to tell stupid jokes.

“I’m pretty sure I just liked that they roared and had big teeth, but… I guess that’s what made them king of jungle.” Phil sounded sad again, distant. Like he was looking for his own teeth, his own roar, and finding himself wanting. 

Dan couldn’t have that.

“I don’t know. I feel like any king that regularly kills and eats their subjects could be considered a sub-par leader.”

“Oh…” Phil put a hand on his chest and shot Dan a glare. “And I thought you were going to be able to accept me for who I am.”

Dan felt heat in his cheeks as he looked over at Phil. “Sir, are you a cannibal?”

Phil looked back at him. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

The looking was stirring things up in Dan, intense and scary things, he didn’t know what to do with, so he pushed them to the corners of his mind.

“Officially, the most ominous thing anyone has ever said to me,” Dan went again for the joke, like it was all he knew how to do. But, then again, they were good at making each other laugh. “It’s doubly frightening when you consider how many people did meet their untimely end here under the orders of disgruntled kings. I mean poor Anne Boleyn.”

“And Catherine Howard and Lady Jane Grey and the countess of Salisbury, the Earl of Essex.”

Dan side-eyed, him stepping a bit away. He tempered his voice so it sounded wary. “It’s getting pretty late maybe I should be going…”

Phil shrank down a little. “Oh, oh really? Okay—“

“Phil, that was a joke,” Dan quickly corrected.

“About me beheading you?”

“And eating me. It was a risky creative choice, but I decided to go there.”

Phil laughed, looking at Dan with an expression Dan couldn’t place. Maybe Dan should just get used to be unable to read him. “I think I technically got there first.”

“You did actually.”

They were walking towards a building with newer looking bricks, though still imposing. They were cleaner somehow, yellowish-beige with lines and columns of small four-paned windows. 

Dan leaned a little over the guardrail like it was going to help him peer through one of those windows, but it was too dark to see. “Ooh, what’s in there?”

Phil tensed and his voice followed suit. “That… it’s nothing.”

“Okay, that’s the second ominous thing you’ve said this evening and now I’m very curious.” Dan was feeling a little bubbly now, a little drunk on the way this whole being near Phil thing felt. 

“You shouldn’t be,” Phil said. “Not ominous, just boring.”

Dan tilted his head, peering around a curved outcropping of the building. Dan jumped. There was an armed guard in his memorable red suit standing by the entrance.

“There are guards.” Dan directed his attention squarely at Phil, dropping back around the building out of sight. Dan backed up quite a distance, as if part of whatever game he’d suddenly started playing was to not inform the guard that they were here. “This is the only place with guards here still,” Dan was whispering. “Boring, my  _ ass _ . What is it?” he asked excitedly. “Is it all our state secrets?” 

He knew it wasn’t, but he didn’t know what it was, and he was excited and this was fun. This was  _ fun.  _ Real fun. He’d kind of forgotten fun.

“It’s where we keep the crown jewels, Dan.” Those words dropped like an anvil because that was the weight Phil had added to them. 

It stopped the fun in its tracks and Dan felt desperate to lift off some of that weight, find some of that fun for both of them again.

“And you don’t want me to steal them?” Dan said, still whispering. He decided to pretend like that was why Phil hadn’t told him, why he’d acted weird about it. Not because it was a reminder of the distance that separated Phil from the rest of the world, from people like Dan. Dan didn’t want him to think about how they were separated. He wanted to keep searching for those tiny lines of connection.

Phil’s tension melted again and he gave Phil a cheeky grin. “Were you planning on stealing them?”

“I don’t know. Now, I kind of am.” Dan looked up at the building and then back to Phil. “Do you think I could get away with it?”

“No. You literally just told me you were going to do it, and your fingerprints are all over everything,” Phil announced.

Dan furrowed his brow. “My fingerprints aren’t on any—” 

Phil grabbed Dan’s wrist, shocking Dan silent. He tried to stretch Dan’s out over the guardrail to put his hand on the bricks of the curved turret. 

“ _ Hey.”  _ Dan shouted, then jumped into action to try to stop Phil from doing it, but Phil wasn’t giving up easily. Sam was romping around them and barking as they were grappling at each other, twisting around. It was playful boyish teasing, and it nearly burnt in the places they touched. Like hands laid flat on on sun-baked sand.

“Come here,” Phil said, grabbing at him from behind. One arm around his waist and the other grasping at Dan’s arm.

Dan giggled—actually giggled—like a total dork when Phil caught it and pulled his hand toward that door handle. 

_ “ _ No. No, you don’t,” Dan fake protested, shoving him. 

“Step away from the prince. Now!” Maxwell’s voice boomed as he rushed toward Dan, looking murderous. 

Phil immediately took his hands off Dan, and Dan threw himself away from Phil, his heart pounding.

“Stop,” Phil said. “Maxwell, stop.”

He did stop, his huge shoulders rising and falling with his breaths.  “Sir, what’s going on? Are you alright?”

“Yes, Sorry that was… I was just being… I started… We were just…” Phil was struggling to have an answer for what they’d been doing and Dan didn’t blame them because what the fuck had they been doing. Besides, well, having fun.

“He’ll shout for help if I attack him,” Dan said to Maxwell, still feeling silly—but the good kind—as he extracted himself from where their scuffle had tangled him in Sam’s lead.

“Yeah,” Phil said, glancing at Dan, then back to Maxwell. “I’ll shout for help if attacks me.”

“Sir…” Maxwell did not look nor sound amused, which was fine because at least Phil seemed amused and Dan was definitely still amused.

And then Phil’s voice grew more serious. It was his prince voice, replacing his Phil voice. “Maxwell, it’s fine. Thank you.”

They walked off at a respectable distance from each other, Sam sniffing on up ahead, but they were only able to hold it in for so long before they were both sputtering their laughs, and spurring each other on.

“Oh my God.” Dan’s ribs ached. “You almost got me killed. I could see it in his eyes. He was about to break his no tackling streak. He’d have crushed me like the sad, pale potato crisp I am.”

Phil laughed, but then he paused and let out a sigh. “Thank you for not being upset about that… or him. I know it can be invasive.”

“Don’t be sorry, Phil.” Dan smiled at him, wanting to chase away the sound of that sadness again. “I don’t blame him. I could be a cannibal, you know.”

“I thought  _ I _ was the cannibal.”

“Plot twist: we’re both the cannibal.”

“But, seriously, Dan,” Phil said sincerely. “Thank you. I’m glad you came and I’ve… missed having someone to talk to. It’s hard to make friends, as you can imagine, especially new ones, and sometimes you don’t always want to talk to people you’ve known since you were a child. Or who talk to and treat you differently because of your title. It’s nice when it doesn’t feel like that.”

“And… and it doesn’t feel like that with me?” Dan asked hopefully. He wanted to be different to Phil. He wanted that so badly.

“Yes, Dan. Just minutes ago you threatened to steal my mother’s crown and eat me afterwards. Nobody talks to me like that.”

“I feel like that’s an unfair exaggeration of what I threatened to do, Philip.” Dan gave Phil his best cheeky grin, and the smile Phil gave him back didn’t match it at all. It felt soft, comforting, like a cozy jumper still warm out of the dryer.

They continued on down the path as the sun was sinking out of the sky, its absence painting the sky in stripes of ombre violet. They were passing a church building, and Phil briefly explained that it was the chapel royal of Saint Peter ad Vincula. It was kind of beautiful, Dan thought, a low, long building with big arched windows, and a bell tower. It was apparently the burial location of the women they’d mentioned earlier--Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, Lady Jane Grey.

“This place looks really fucking creepy at dusk. Like cool creepy though,” Dan said.

Phil leaned over, close enough Dan could feel his breath on his ear. “Yeah, you know why?”

“No.” Dan swallowed, his throat tight. “Why?”

“Because, Dan,” Same whisper, same wonderful closeness to his ear. “The Tower of London is haunted.”


	16. Chapter 16

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Haunted?” 

Phil grinned back at him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “Yep.”

He was adorable, pink-cheeked from the cold and grinning an absolute miracle of a smile. It took everything in Dan not to pull out his phone and take a picture. He wanted to keep that smile in his pocket forever.

Dan took a step closer and leaned in, his voice lowered. “ _ Sir, _ do you believe in ghosts?”

“I don’t know,  _ Daniel _ ,” Phil bit his bottom lip, his eyes slowly shutting before pulling back open. “Do you?”

He pulled his shoulders back, set his lips into a firm line that he hoped Phil would take as a playful challenge. “No.”

“Well,”—Phil poked Dan in the arm—“by the end of the night, I’m going to have changed your mind.”

Dan reached up to touch where Phil had just pressed his pointer finger. It was just in his head, but he swore he could still feel Phil touching him through the coat. Maybe he’d never stop feeling it. He knew he didn’t want to.

“Is that right?” Dan finally managed to get the words out of his throat. Words seemed so hard to come by when his mind was completely occupied with all things Prince Philip—his dark hair, his smile, those broad shoulders, that looked even more broad beneath—

“Do you not have faith in me?” Phil asked.

Dan shrugged. “I don’t have faith in anything.”

“A true skeptic, then. I’ll have to keep my wits about me for this challenge.”

Dan let out a laugh. He just couldn’t help it. 

Phil raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re talking really weird.”

Phil pressed his lips out, his mouth turning slightly down.

“Oh, don’t pout. I like weird.” Dan grinned again and bumped into Phil’s shoulder. “So, if this place is haunted, I want to know. What’s the ghost story?”

“Ghost stor _ ies _ ,” Phil corrected. “There’s more ghosts than people here right now.”

Dan definitely did not believe in ghosts or souls or spirits or anything like that, but there was something unsettling about that idea in a place like this, with this much age and history.

“Well, then, give me your best one, mate. I want to be convinced.”

They passed off Sam to Maxwell. Sam had started lying down as they tried to walk, so Maxwell took him and rather than following them now, just kind of hung back. He could probably still see them, but there was definitely more distance and it seemed like Maxwell was taking Phil mostly at his word that it was fine. That Dan was fine.

There was a rustle of foliage and then a guttural, unsettling caw met by several more caws and a large raven came toddling up to them. 

Dan didn’t move. He just stared down at the raven. He wasn’t quite sure what to do. 

“Don’t worry about Thor. He’s just begging for food,” Phil said.

“Thor?” 

The bird looked up at Dan almost as if he had recognized his name and cawed loudly twice.

“Shush, that’s just Dan. He’s a friend of mine.”

_ Caw. Caw. _

“Nice to meet you, Thor,” Dan said, hesitantly.

The bird trotted off towards Phil without another caw as if it wasn’t very nice to meet Dan at all. It cawed at Phil.

“I know, but I don’t have any food today.”

_ Caw. _

“Yes, I usually have food, but I don’t today. We have a visitor.”

The raven cawed some more and nipped at Phil’s shoe. 

“Calvin fed you earlier. I know he did.” Phil looked over his shoulder at Dan. “You don’t happen to have any raw meat in your pocket, do you?”

“Dammit. I left my raw meat at home.”  _ What the hell’s happening?  _

Thor cawed a few more times and suddenly there was more flapping and cawing and several more of the ravens came out of the bushes and where they’d been blending in on black railings. They fluttered towards Phil. The prince was surrounded by birds.  _ Surrounded.  _

Dan scanned the area until he found Maxwell and tried to get some eye contact, some distant reassurance that he was seeing this too and Dan hadn’t gone completely mad, but Maxwell didn’t seem to be having any reaction to the strange scene at all.

“Uh, Phil… care to explain?”

“This is Hardey, Owen, Cerdric, Gwyllum, Munin and, well, you’ve already met Thor.”

Dan blinked. “Uh huh.”

“Not sure where the other one is, but they’re around.”

“Phil, is this like a weird prince Snow White magic that I don’t understand?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “That and I’m one of only like three people in the world that feed them.”

“But you’re talking to them?”  _ And they kind of seem like they’re talking back.  _ But that was… Dan wasn’t even going to go there.

“They’re good listeners.” Phil started walking towards Dan and the birds hopped along with him. “And they don’t have any opinion at all about who your mother is.”

Dan let out a laugh and dropped his gaze to look down at his shoes before pulling it back up to look at Phil again. It was intimidating to say the least, Phil standing there with his posse of ravens.

“You do know the legend of the ravens at the tower, don’t you?”

Dan actually did know this one, but it felt weird to be the one to say it aloud, given present company. “Refresh my memory.”

“Charles II insisted that the ravens of the tower be protected. It was his belief that there must be six ravens here at all times, and if there was not, then the tower and the Crown would fall.”

“Jesus, we’re really not good at lightening the mood, are we?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Just an old superstition though, right?” Dan said with an awkward smile. 

Phil looked down at the ravens, then back up at Dan. “Right.” His ‘right' didn’t totally convince Dan. He knelt down towards the birds. “Alright, you’ve shown off for our guests and I don’t have any food.” Phil waved his hands at them. “Bugger off, then.”

The birds didn’t immediately flutter off, but they must have gotten the idea that Phil wasn’t going to feed them somehow, and they all went off in their separate directions.

“So, Dan, speaking of legends, do you know the legend of the Bloody Tower?” Phil asked.

“No, but Bloody Tower doesn’t sound very good.”

Phil rubbed at the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, do you want to go inside?”

“We can get inside?”

Phil just sort of blinked in Dan’s general direction. 

“Right… everything the light touches is yours, Simba. I forgot.”

“Rawr,” Phil said, which was fucking adorable, then he reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a set of keys. “Keys,” Phil said excitedly.

“I see that.”

“Sorry, I never get to use keys.”

Dan grinned. “This is a big day for you, then.”

Phil squared his shoulders back, lifted his chin. He’d look smug if Dan didn’t know better. “It is. Now, come on.”

They walked near the stone archway where Dan had entered earlier with Maxwell. He remembered the sign hanging above it.  _ Bloody Tower, 1225. _

Phil—who was so excited to use his keys—struggled with the lock on the door. So much, that Dan walked over.

“Can I help?” Dan asked.

A light blush painted across Phil’s cheeks. “Sure.”

He held the keys out to Dan, and when Dan took them, their fingers brushed, slid right over each other. A small touch that made Dan’s heart rocket into in his throat, and flip back down. It was like he was extra charged up from touching earlier and not touching now. 

He let out a steady breath and flipped the key over to get it in the lock. It opened easily, and he handed the keys back to Phil.

“That was so simple for you,” Phil said, his lips turned into a frown.

“I’ve got some practice.”

When they stepped inside, Dan heard a foreboding beeping sound coming from the dark.

“Excuse me,” Phil moved around Dan and found a panel on the wall. He flipped it open and punched some numbers into it, and the beeping stopped. “We almost got arrested.”

“ _ I _ almost got arrested. You’re just an innocent future monarch they’d claim I was trying to hold for ransom.”

“I’d just tell them that we’d come here with my friend from YouTube for an evening walk… with a side of history lesson.”

“Eh, that’s pretty unbelievable,” Dan said. It was. It really fucking was.

Phil’s face scrunched up. God, he was cute when he was all scrunchy.  “But that’s what we’re doing…”

Dan smiled at him, eyes focused and warm. It was probably not the kind of look he should be giving the prince. “It’s still pretty fucking unbelievable.”

Phil was looking back at him, with a similar intensity, but the moment was broken by Maxwell in the doorway, hanging onto Sam’s lead.

“You can’t bring him in here,” Phil said.

Maxwell’s brow furrowed. “I can and I am, sir.”

“There are… rules,” Phil replied. “It’s a museum with priceless artifacts.”

“Sam could pee on them,” Dan said, trying help Phil out.

Phil glanced over at Dan and back at Maxwell. “Yes… he could… he could pee on them.”

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed, moving between, clearly assessing. Phil looked back at him, and Dan just stood there, a hand tucked into his pocket as he watched Phil and Maxwell have what appeared to be a whole conversation with nothing but facial expressions.

Eventually, Maxwell’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ll stand here in the doorway with Sam.” His attention turned to Dan. “Right here. In the doorway. I have the ears of a hawk."

“Okay,” Phil said. “Thank you.” He walked up to Dan and put a hand on his elbow. 

_ A hand. On my elbow.  _

Phil dropped his touch away, once he’d scooted Dan along a few feet. 

“I feel like we just got permission to stay out past curfew,” Dan said.

“Welcome to my life,” Phil said, with a small laugh. “And welcome to the Bloody Tower.”

They took a moment just to walk around. It was actually kind of pretty in there, though still creepy, especially with the glimpses of the sun dropping outside. But the walls were a bright white, and the exhibits were well lit, and their steps were loud on the wood floors. 

Dan looked in through a doorway covered in plexiglas. “What’s this?” Dan turned around and leaned against the brick. “I mean I could read the plaque, but I kind of want you to tell me.” He slapped a hand over the plaque. “From memory.”

“That’s… that’s Sir Walter Raleigh’s room,” Phil said.

“Interesting. Tell me more.”

“Well, he was imprisoned here,” Phil said, sounding a little unsure.

Dan looked back at the room which looked more like a guest quarters than a jail cell. There was a desk, and books and a bed.

“Well, it is a prison, so, I figured,” Dan said, a challenge in his voice. 

Phil straightened his back, got this look in his eye, that was kind of confident, kind of not like anything he’d seen from him before. It was a little exciting, but all of this was a little exciting.

“Sir Walter Raleigh was imprisoned by the queen when she discovered his secret marriage to Elizabeth Throckmorton, one of the queen’s maids of honor. The queen was so angry—and probably jealous—she threw both Sir Raleigh and his wife into the tower. Once he was released, he sailed to the Americas where he searched for the mythical golden city of El Dorado in an attempt to regain the favor of the queen.”

“How’d that go for him?”

“Not great. No gold and upon returning to England, the queen’s successor, King James, who hated Raleigh, imprisoned him in the tower again where he spent the next twelve years of his life, until James released Raleigh for him to once again try to find El Dorado, which he of course, failed to do, attacked the Spanish against the king’s wishes and then was executed on return to England.”

“Okay then, when was he executed?”

“Oh, I don’t know you got me there,” Phil shrugged, looking away sheepishly, then he looked back at Dan with that same confident glint. “Except you don’t and it was October 29, 1618.”

“Shit,” Dan dropped his hand away from the plaque. “That was kind of hot.” 

Dan went ice cold immediately. The blood drained out of his face, and he was pretty sure he died right there. He was the tower’s new fucking ghost.  _ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

“Um, I don’t mean…” Dan laughed awkwardly. “I don’t mean hot like  _ hot.  _ I mean like lit. Like hot is another way to say to lit.”

“Oh.” Phil’s brow furrowed. “It is?”

Dan nodded. 

“Well, I’m glad you think my encyclopedic knowledge of the history of the Tower of London is… kind of lit.”

“Yeah, well, it is. It’s very lit.”

“Thank you.”

Dan winced as he took a step away from the wall. He was cringing so hard that he’d actually caused his muscles to ache. Just fucking great. 

“So, uh, is he the ghost?” Dan tried to change the subject as they walked on. “You said you were going to tell me a ghost story.”

“No, Dan. He’s not the ghost. There are two ghosts in the tower actually.”

“Two?” Dan asked. “Have you seen them?”

“You’ll make fun of me if I tell you.”

“Only from a place of admiration and fondness, sir,” Dan said.

Phil tucked his hand into his pocket and looked down at the floor. “Well, yes, I have actually. When I was a boy. Our nanny used to take my brother and I here quite often, actually, and we were in here—and I’d run off from her, as kids do. I was only about five.”

“Jesus, what happened?”

“I thought I was being funny, and that I could find my way back, but I got lost, going up to the second floor. We didn’t usually go up to the second floor. I liked to, though so I did.” Phil started walking up the stairs and Dan followed him.

“What did you see?”

“Nothing, and then I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, which I figured were Martyn’s, so I followed the sound of them, to find my way back down. It wasn’t Martyn walking up the stairs.”

“Shit.” Dan didn’t believe in ghosts, but that didn’t change the fact that one of his biggest fears was the fucking supernatural, and here he was, at night, in an old prison, talking about ghosts.

“It was two small figures in nightgowns, running down the stairs. They were holding hands and they disappeared into the stones.”

_ Child ghosts.  _ Even better.

“That’s… something.”

Phil tilted his head. “You okay, Dan? You look kind of…”

“I’m fine.” Dan cleared his throat. “Who are the ghosts supposed to be?”

“Two young princes. Edward V and Richard, Duke of York. They disappeared in the late 1400s and their bones were found here nearly two centuries later.”

Dan shivered. “Have you seen them since? If you come here a lot?” He was really hoping for a no.

“Once,” Phil said, then started to walk away, further into the upper chamber.

Dan glanced down at the steps and felt a skip of fear in his chest. He hurried to catch up with Phil.

“You can’t just say once and then walk off,” Dan said, moving in front of Phil to block his way. “When did you see them?”

Phil stopped in his tracks, then turned around and looked right at Dan. “When my brother died.”

_ Oh. _

“Phil, I’m—”

“I just came here, you know, to be… with him. I mean, my memories of him. I had so many of my best ones here and almost all of my best ones with him. I walked up here and sat down, probably for hours, I’m not sure, but I watched it get dark out the window and then I saw them again, two brothers walking down the stairs, holding hands, disappearing into the stone.” Phil let out a soft breath. “I felt jealous of them in that moment. Those two poor murdered brothers. Because they were together. And that, that  _ terrified _ me. That I would think that.”

Dan didn’t have any idea what to say.

Phil continued, “So, I got up and I walked down those stairs and I started seeing someone.”

“Seeing someone? Like a therapist?”

Phil nodded. “She wanted me to come back here, eventually, but I… I didn’t want new memories here. Ones without Martyn.”

“We’re here?” Dan barely managed, his voice sounding so small.

“Yeah, we’re here.” Phil was staring back at him, from not very far away at all. He had those wonderful crinkles in his forehead, and he took a step forward. A step forward.  _ Towards  _ Dan, and there wasn’t much space there. Not much space at all.

They were standing so close, close enough that Dan could smell Phil’s cologne—sweet but a little woodsy—expensive, even for what Dan would wear, even for what Nick would wear. And Phil was just looking at Dan. There was a sight crease in his brow, like he was really concentrating on something. Not something, Dan thought, someone. 

_ Me. _

Dan could feel his mouth go dry, his tongue could strike the roof of his mouth like a match. And his heart, oh his heart was a wild thing trapped in his chest that was knocking the air of his lungs.

Phil’s eyes dropped from Dan’s eyes. Dropped, Dan swore, to his lips then back up again. All that did was draw Dan’s attention to Phil’s lips. Pink and soft-looking.

Dan wanted to kiss them. He’d known that for awhile, it felt like forever really, that he’d wanted it. But the distance between them wasn’t going to close without one of them making the decision to close it. They were both still looking and Dan wasn’t stepping away and Phil wasn’t stepping away. 

It had been a long time since Dan had taken a risk, since Dan had set aside his fears and insecurities to reach for something that might be out of reach. 

So Dan leaned in. He leaned in enough that it couldn’t be mistaken for anything but what it was. A request. He waited for Phil to move away, to turn his head, but he didn’t. All Phil did was let his gaze drop again to Dan’s lips a second time.

So, Dan reached. He reached with a mouth that had been craving this kiss for longer than he cared to admit. And Phil, it seemed, was reaching back. Kissing back. His hands were on Dan’s waist and Dan’s hands were on the lapel of his coat, and they were kissing.  _ Kissing. _

That was impossible. That Phil would want to kiss him back. But it wasn’t. It  _ was _ happening, so it wasn’t impossible at all. This was _ real _ . They were real. This kiss was real. The realest thing that had ever happened in Dan’s life.

It seemed to melt through Dan’s whole body, all at once, this feeling of being made possible. 

The kiss ended with a smack and Dan was left without a breath in his chest. He wondered if he’d ever breathe again.

“Should I not have…?” Dan finally managed to say, hands still gripping the wool of Phil’s peacoat.  _ Please don’t say I shouldn’t have. _

Phil stared back at Dan. His eyes were wide, his mouth dropped open, lips still shiny-wet from being kissed. The silence struck fear into Dan, but he didn’t dare move. Didn’t drop his hands away from where they were clinging.

“Dan,” Phil’s voice broke the silence like water through a weak dam. “Kiss me again.”

That fear that had settled cold in Dan’s chest melted at those words.  _ Kiss me again.  _ Just melted and spread all through him.  _ Kiss me again. Kiss me again _ .

A smile tugged at the corners of Dan’s mouth and he gave into it easily. 

“Yes, sir.”

Phil matched Dan’s smile with a shy one of his own, and Dan tugged Phil in even closer, dipping his mouth down to erase that single inch that separated them.

He pressed his lips to Phil’s again. Those lips that were cool and still wet from Dan’s mouth. This new kiss shuddered through his whole body, like a roll of electricity, that sparked out at his fingertips, then caught fire and rolled back through him again in an all new way. In a stronger way.  

Kissing Phil the first time had been like the first few drops of rain in a storm, like when he was a kid and he’d stand there under partly cloudy skies and stick out his tongue just to steal a taste. Kissing Phil the second time was altogether different. Kissing Phil the second time was like opening up his mouth and swallowing the whole goddamn sky.

  
  



	17. Chapter 17

Dan had kissed the prince. The prince had kissed him back. Those were two facts. Two actual, concrete realities that were now just part of Dan’s life. What the actual fuck?

Maxwell had called out for them soon after that kiss, breaking the moment. He’d called out right as Dan had a mind to back Phil against the bricks and take the thing between them to the next level. Dan probably wouldn’t have actually done it, even without Maxwell’s interruption, but he’d have wanted to. He  _ had  _ wanted to.

Phil’s mouth was just  _ so  _ perfect. 

But, in any case, Maxwell had interrupted and Phil had had to get going, so they’d exchanged unwilling goodbyes and Dan had taken the underground home. Phil hadn’t followed him out or seemed to have left the tower at all. Maybe there was something to the rumors of the royal tunnels that were supposed to run under London connecting the palaces. Or maybe he just had another exit, but the tunnels were more exciting, so Dan was going with the tunnels.

Now, Dan was back at his flat. He was still feeling warm and buzzed from the kiss. He might just be feeling warm and buzzed for the rest of his life.

He walked into the lounge to find Nick sat on the sofa, reading a book.

“Hey man,” Nick said. “You’re back.”

“I am.” Dan tried to keep his voice flat. Nick was his best friend in the world, but he still didn’t feel comfortable spilling everything to him right now. Dan wanted to just keep this wonderful thing for himself and no one else. Well, no one but Phil. And possibly Maxwell.

“What did you guys do?” Nick asked.

“Just walked.”

Nick pivoted towards Dan, one of his legs kicked up onto his thigh. “Just walked?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was the Tower of London, so it was pretty cool. I learned some stuff.”

“So, you went on a walk with the prince… who you have feelings for… and just walked and had a history lesson?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, I don’t believe you, but I respect you enough not to push it,” Nick said.

Dan snorted. “Since when?”

“Since now.” Nick grabbed one of the fuzzy pillows off the sofa and hit Dan with it.

“Ow, fuck,” Dan said. 

“Chill. It’s a pillow.” Nick stood up from the sofa. “So did you get anything to eat?”

“Nah, mate.” Dan had actually kind of forgotten about food and eating. He wasn’t even sure he felt like eating. His stomach was all full of butterflies. 

God, when did he become such a fucking loser?

“I haven’t either, but I’ve got some leftovers from the other night to heat up. Do you want some?”

Dan yawned and leaned back on the sofa. “What kind of leftovers?”

“The buffalo wings and veggies I made the other day.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dan said. “Those were good.” He still wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, but he knew he should eat, and Nick’s buffalo wings  _ were _ really good.

As Dan waited for the food, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out, and felt his stomach swoop. 

Phil: Thanks for coming with me tonight.

Dan: i’m really glad i did.

Phil: me too. didn’t want you to leave though.

Dan: maxwell has terrible timing, doesn’t he?

Phil: He warned you, Dan. Ears of a hawk.

Dan felt nervous all of sudden. Had he called out to Phil in that moment because he knew what was happening between them?

Dan: he heard us???

Phil: It’s fine. He won’t say anything. 

Right. Because they weren’t saying anything. Of course, they weren’t. Dan knew that. Honestly, Dan  _ wanted  _ that. He wasn’t asking for any of the media scrutiny that would come with being the prince’s boyfr—and what was even thinking about they’d only kissed once.  _ Jesus Christ, Dan. _

Dan: oh, that’s good

Phil: Yeah

Phil: I hope you have a good night, and no nightmares after my spooky stories. 

Dan: i don’t know. i’m pretty scared. you might have to send some of your knights to protect me, sir.

Phil: You know I don’t actually have knights as such, right?

Dan: but what about elton john?

Phil: Do you want me to send Elton John over there to protect you?

This was a risk. Maybe a little too much, a little too fast, but one risk had paid off earlier, so maybe this one would too. 

Dan: I’d rather you just send yourself over.

Phil: i’d rather that too, dan, but alas…

Dan: Alas.

They texted a little while longer, but eventually, Phil stopped replying. Dan imagined, or hoped, it was because it was late and Phil had fallen asleep, not that he’d grown tired of talking to Dan.

The next morning, he woke up to a string of texts.

Phil: Good morning, Dan!

Phil: I went to get coffee at Eloise’s this morning and I thought of when he first met up there for work.

Phil: Good thoughts, by the way.

Phil: Oh, and Dan, we should probably go back sometime. Eloise already misses you, though I think she might miss a specific part of you.

Phil: I should not have said that.

Dan was barely awake and coherent, and had to take a second to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before replying.

Dan: i need to go back there. my ass has been feeling it needs a compliment.

Phil: It is a very good and hard working bum that deserve acknowledgement. 

Dan yelped—actually yelped when he read those words. Loud enough that Nick stirred beside him in the bed.

Dan: Hard working???

Dan: ??

Dan: ??????

Phil: Oh God. Oh my God. I didn’t mean… sorry, oh my God. 

Dan felt a little bad for making Phil kind of panic, but he also liked that he had the ability to ruffle him at all.

Dan: i’m very deeply offended, sir

Phil: Are you?

Dan: no lmao of course not. my butt accepts your strange compliment.

Phil: You’re welcome, Butt.

Dan: this conversation has wandered in a strange direction.

Phil: All our conversations wander in strange directions, Dan.

Dan: that’s valid. 

Dan spent the rest of his day with his nose buried in that phone, sending Phil texts. Nick went to a studio nearby to work on some new music and was gone for most of the day, so it left Dan to literally do nothing but just sink farther and farther into these easy conversations with Phil. 

As he was falling asleep that night, all Dan could think was that he couldn’t wait to get up the next day and start talking to Phil all over again…

Dan woke up in a desaturated world. He didn’t notice at first. That was part of the whole world thing. It was almost like being in a bad dream, but a little quieter, less absurd, which meant it took Dan a while to notice.

It was a silly thing too—a bite of cereal that didn’t taste like anything. The milk should have felt cool against his tongue, the crunchy flakes, sugary-sweet, but they were just sort of there. It wasn’t necessarily the lack of taste that made Dan realize something was off inside him, but it was that he’d eaten the whole bowl without caring that it didn’t taste like anything. 

He left it on the table, a little milk at the bottom of the bowl, and the spoon resting inside it. Normally, Dan was particular about where things went, about order and cleanliness, but it was just a bowl, sat on a table. It didn’t matter.

Dan walked into the lounge. Nick was sat on the sofa, looking down at something in his hand.

He glanced over at Dan. “Hey. man.”

“What are you doing?” He could hear the flatness in his own voice.

Nick gave him a confused look. “…changing the reservoir in my pump.”

“Oh… right.” Dan blinked. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it. He knew what Nick was doing. He seen him change the reservoir in his insulin pump countless times. The pump sat between them in the bed every night. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Nick asked. “You seem… off.”

“Yeah, I’m… it’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. Dan knew he was off. Knew it was going to be a problem, but he didn’t  _ want  _ it to be… he wasn’t sure he wanted anything, but that was… whatever. He’d learned a long time ago that it didn’t matter if he wanted anything. On days like this, there were things he had to do no matter how it felt.

Nick ripped open an alcohol wipe and rubbed it on the skin a few inches up from his waistband. “Drink some water, okay?”

Dan bit his tongue not to tell Nick to mind his own business. He hated that that was his reaction, but he was just on edge. Nick was right anyway. He needed to drink his water and eat right and stay active and try to hold this thing back before it got too bad. 

“I’ve got to go jog or something,” Dan said. “If you want to come.”

“Just let me finish up here.” Nick gave him a smile and seemed like a pitying smile, but this was Nick and he wasn’t like that—Dan  _ knew  _ that—but yeah, that didn’t seem to matter either.

They were several blocks into their jog when Dan realized he’d left his phone at home. He’d left it at home and it was after noon and he hadn’t even checked his phone today. Not once, which was definitely out of character for him. He’d spent the last day doing barely anything besides texting with Phil about nothing. He wondered if Phil had texted him today or if he hadn’t. Dan wouldn’t blame Phil, if he’d gotten bored of him already.

“You okay?” Nick called back to him. He was several yards ahead. 

Dan hadn’t noticed he’d stopped running and let Nick get so far ahead.

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t… he wasn’t fine. And the vitamin-D and the fresh air and the getting his heart pumping and shit was all supposed to make a difference, but with every forced step forward, it became clearer and clearer that it wasn’t helping at all. “Can we just go home?”

Nick stopped running too, and walked back to him. “You sure? Maybe you should—”

“I can’t. I literally can’t. I can’t.”

“That’s fine. Let’s just go home.”

They walked back to the flat in total silence. Dan didn’t have the mind or energy to say anything and it seemed that Nick was just following Dan’s lead. 

At home, Dan stripped all his clothes off except his pants and crawled into bed. He saw his phone sitting on the nightstand, face down. He had no idea if anyone had texted him. He could reach out and look. He  _ could.  _ But what was the point? And it sounded hard. Unbearably and impossibly hard to even lift his phone, let alone read something on it, think about it and reply. Too hard. Too much. 

Dan was just going to lie there. He could do lying there.

“I’m going to bring you up a glass of water,” Nick said, then left the bedroom. He returned a few minutes later with the water and left it on the nightstand.

Dan should say ‘thank you’, but that seemed too hard to do too.

 

Dan was like that the next day—and the day after that. He didn’t do anything, but drag himself out of bed to piss and Nick forced him into a shower because apparently Dan smelled and they sleep in the same bed so it was non-negotiable. Dan forced some food and water down his throat, and he knew he should probably call his therapist—Nick had hinted as much—but the calling seemed just as hard as the picking up the phone to check for texts seemed. Which he hadn’t done either. 

Maybe Phil was texting him. Maybe he’d been texting him and realized Dan wasn’t texting him back and stopped. Maybe it was best for Phil to realize this now. That Dan had issues. That he was unreliable, that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be unreliable sometimes. 

There could have been other missed calls or messages too. His mum or grandma, Emily or Louise, work stuff… a handful of other people who might want something from him. And he hadn’t touched his twitter or tumblr. He hadn’t touched the internet at all—which was weird. Even on his bad days, he’d still end up fucking around on wikipedia or reddit. But not this time. This time he wanted to feel a total disconnect from the rest of the world.

A part of Dan was honestly surprised that Nick was even still here. Of course, Nick knew about Dan’s depressive episodes and he’d been around for some of them, but not like this. Not around, around. Really, no one had ever been around, around. Like for the whole thing, like an extended period of putting up with Dan’s shit. He was pretty much completely leaving Dan alone besides trying to get him to eat and drink some water. When all this was over, he would probably be embarrassed about what had happened. His therapist always said he didn’t have to be, but he always was. Right now, though, Dan could barely remember what it felt like to be embarrassed or what it felt like to feel anything. He only had the most tentative grasp on his most basic feelings—hunger, thirst, sex. 

Dan was just listening to the white noise in his head, when the bedroom door opened and Nick walked in.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Nick said.

“I guess.”  _ Not in any of the ways that matter. _

_ “ _ Well, I’m going to hop in the shower.”

“Okay.” It had been days since Dan had managed to give Nick more than a one or two word answer.

Nick looked at Dan for a moment, then let out a sigh and walked into the bathroom.

Dan just laid there, not thinking much of anything, paying attention only to the heaviness in his body, as he drifted in and out of a sleep that never got deep, never felt restful.

When Dan heard the water turn off, he didn’t really react to it, other than to remain somewhat aware that it had happened. He tucked his knees in closer to his chest, pressed his cheek deeper into the pillow, and just stared out with half-open eyes into the dimness of his bedroom. 

Eventually, the door to the bathroom opened. He looked towards it automatically. His attention was just drawn to the sound—there was no thought or reason or meaning behind it. It was as pointless an action as any action. 

Nick was stood there, his muscular shoulders cast in the light of the lamps on Dan’s nightstands. Nick’s body was lean—hard in most of the places where Dan was soft. The shape of him made a v-towards his waist where, below the small white patches of his glucose monitor and the infusion site for his pump, one of Dan’s thin grey towels was wrapped around him. 

He had an objectively attractive chest set above an objectively attractive stomach, with a spread of dark hair leading under the towel.

Nick didn’t seem aware that Dan was watching, nor aware Dan was even awake as he pulled back the twist in the grey towel, letting it fall off his body and onto the floor. Now Dan could see where that dark hair lead. To more dark hair and an objectively attractive cock. 

Nick was long and cut. Dan hadn’t had a cut cock in a long time. They weren’t common here. The bare head of it was nicely flushed pink and— 

Nick sat this pump that had been in his hand on the top of the dresser and leaned over to pull a pair of boxer-briefs out of the drawer, showing off his objectively nice ass.

Dan felt that boiling up surge in his thighs and up to his own dick. He was hard, straining against his pants.

His stomach sank, and it rattled something loose in his head. 

_ What the fuck? What the actual fuck had he done?  _

Nick walked over, wearing nothing but the pants and slid into the bed. Dan felt it dip with his weight. 

Shame rushed over Dan quick and heavy. He was suffocating with it. Nick was his  _ friend. _ His best friend in the whole fucking world and he’s just… like he was piece of meat. Like he was nothing but a porn gif on tumblr.

Dan threw back the covers and practically ejected himself out of bed. He grabbed a hoody off the floor and tugged it on as he rushed out of the bedroom. He heard Nick call after him but he ignored him. He couldn’t bare to face him not after the way he’d just acted. 

His mind assaulted him as he rushed away from the bedroom— _ you’re fucking disgusting. What kind of friend are you? What kind of person are you? You’re sick. _

And what about Phil? That’s where his mind was, when he had any control over it at all. That’s who he wanted. Even now. Even through the smoky haze of nothingness he’d been dragging himself through like a zombie the last few days, he thought of Phil. Not enough to do anything about it, not enough to fight through the self-destruction and text him back… but enough, enough to know that when he did get to the other side of this thing he’d be wracked with guilt about ignoring him, and about this thing with Nick.

This fucking thing with Nick where he’d stared at his dick and gotten hard. That had never happened before, though Dan had never really _ looked  _ before. He’d seen, but he hadn’t looked. Dan had just been too out of it to turn his head, too numb in that moment. He’d been numb for days and he just wanted to feel something.

_ You did. _

Did guilt count? Did shame?

Dan sighed and sat down. He didn’t make it all the way to the sofa. Just landed a few feet in front of it on the rug. He buried his face in his hands and tried to draw in deep breaths, hoping that might ease back the tightness he felt all over his body but it wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough right now. 

He felt like he wanted to get up and walk away from himself, but that was the one thing he couldn’t do. Dan was just stuck here, trapped in a mind that sometimes had it out for him. His mind was like a separate thing from him, a separate thing that didn’t care about all the things and all the people Dan cared about.

Nick walked into the lounge, startling Dan. He was still shirtless, but he was wearing a pair of black gym shorts, instead of just his pants. And thank God because his pants had never left much to the imagination anyway.

“Hey, what are you doing down here?” Nick asked, yawning.

Dan stared down at where his fingers were linked between his knees. “Nothing, Nick. Just go back to bed.” There wasn’t much conviction in it. Not because he really wanted Nick to stay but because he really didn’t care what Nick did. 

He should. He didn’t.

“Nah, I think I’ll sit.” Nick sat down in front of Dan and put one of his bare feet between Dan’s legs and the other to one side. They kind of fit together like that, making an interesting pattern with their bodies that Dan found himself mentally tracing.

Something squirmed in Dan’s chest and wiggled out across his skin.

“You don’t have to—”

Nick wasn’t looking at him. “You left the bed as soon as I got in.” His voice was quiet, like he was worried Dan might run again. “If you’ve decided you’re uncomfortable with... I can sleep somewhere else. It’s not a big deal.”

Dan snapped his gaze up just to look directly at the messy hair on top of Nick’s head.  _ Tear the plaster off. _ What did it matter?

“I watched you,” Dan said. 

Now, Nick was looking back at him. “Watched me what?”

Dan swallowed, unable to rid himself of that squirmy feeling. Maybe coming clean would help with that. But maybe he didn’t deserve help with it. 

“I watched you take your towel off, Nick. When you got out of the shower.” 

“So? You’ve seen me naked before.” Nick blinked, and Dan could tell he was not getting it.

“I looked at you. At your  _ body _ . On purpose, Nick. And I… I got a fucking boner.” 

Nope. Admitting it didn’t help the crawly feeling go away. It made it worse.

“Oh,” Nick said, eyes casting down and away.

Of course, he wasn’t going to want to look at Dan. What did Dan expect?

“I’m sorry for being such a fucking perv.” Dan dropped his hands where they’d been locked and pressed his knuckles into the rug one on each side of him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered.

“I  _ am _ kind of a snacc.”

Dan ran a hand through his hair. That crawly feeling was still there and turning into more of a frustrated scratching. “You don’t get it. I wouldn’t normally do that. But I didn’t even think about it… about how it might make you feel. I’m such a piece of—“

“You know what I have to do now?” Nick interrupted.

_ Call me a name. Cuss me out. Leave the house. Leave— _

“What?” Dan asked.

Nick lips curled into a smile. “I’m just going to have to list all the weird things that have given me a boner.”

“Oh God, please don’t do that.”

“One, the weather lady on channel 9. Used to have to leave my room when my parents would watch. Two, I had this really fucking good croissant in Paris once.”

“Nick—“

“Three, I got an erection watching someone play a trombone, oh and there was this weird insurance ad. Every fucking time. Even one time when Emily was sitting next to me.”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh. He was almost mad at Nick for making him laugh right now because he couldn’t feel all the things he was supposed to feel when he laughed.

“One time,” Dan said, thinking maybe Nick was right. Dan was just a guy who was into guys whose body had reacted to see a naked guy. “I got a boner watching Bake Off. Not sure what set it off but to this day I’m worried that it was Mary Berry.”

“See, it’s just an erection,” Nick said simply, but then his smile faded and his expression grew serious, but he still sounded gentle when he spoke. “It  _ is. _ .. just an erection?” 

Dan rolled his eyes. “No, I’m secretly in love with you.” 

“Shut up.” Nick grinned and put the foot that was between Dan’s legs on Dan’s chest and pushed him back against the floor.

Nick started giggling—like actually giggling—and so Dan couldn’t help himself either. There they were, lying on the floor of their flat— _ their  _ flat—it was a strange thought, but functionally true at this point—at three in the morning just laughing, deep and side splitting, their legs weirdly threaded together. 

Eventually, their laughter died off. Then, it was just the two of them and silence until… 

“I hate being like this,” Dan said, his voice barely bigger than a whisper. “I hate it. That it still happens. That it will probably always happen sometimes. I hate feeling like I don’t care about anything, about work, or any of my friends or…”—he thought about Phil but he couldn’t bear to say his name— “and you. It fucking sucks because I  _ do  _ care even when I don’t feel it.”

Nick knocked his knee into Dan’s, leaning their legs together. “I know, and I can wait.”

“Wait for what?” Dan pressed his leg back against Nick’s. Nick was solid in a way that Dan had never felt solid, and he was glad to be able to lean against his friend like this, even when he’d been a shit friend himself.

“For you to be able to feel it again,” Nick said. 

In that moment, Dan felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude for this man. An overwhelming surge of gratitude that he’d for some reason found Dan compelling when they’d met for fifteen minutes at the TCAs and decided to send Dan that fateful tweet— _ hey buddy, you in London.  _ And Dan was grateful that he’d hadn’t been busy. That  _ yeah I’m here  _ turned into  _ cool! let’s get coffee.  _ And Starbucks turned into lunch turned into Mario Kart turned into everything else good about their friendship. 

Dan had never been good at having friends. He was sufficient at having people to spend time with on those rare occasions he felt he needed it. He had those people he called to play games with or have a drink or gravitate to at work functions. But he’d always struggled to have friends—real friends—because real friends meant vulnerability. It meant the kind of intimacy that required transparency, required letting people see the ugliest parts of yourself. The parts of yourself you’d rather hide. Relationships required that too and so it was easy to see why he’d never really had one.

But somehow Nick had wormed his way in there, past two decades of Dan’s walls, to  _ this.  _ To this moment where Nick had all the power and reason in the world to tear Dan apart and down, but instead, choosing to build him back up, stitch him back together. Nick had shown Dan there were people to be trusted, that not everyone was a snake in the tall grass. You had to find them, and it wasn’t always easy, but they were there. And when you found them, you held on… you didn’t ignore their texts for three days, convince yourself they’re better off without you and basically drop off the face of the earth.  _ Fuck. _

You didn’t do that. You held on.

Thank God for Nick Jonas.

Dan knew now that he had to get up off his floor, drag his ass to his bedroom, open his phone and text Phil back and pray he hadn’t given up on Dan.

  
  



	18. Chapter 18

Seven—Phil had left Dan seven unread messages.   


Dan just sat down on the edge of his bed, cradling his phone in his hand and staring down at the screen.   


Phil  
7 New Messages  


Dan felt sick to his stomach, and he knew he had to open those messages and find out what they said, but they could say anything. He could have already fucked up in an irreversible way.   


He drew in a deep breath and opened his phone.   


Phil: Morning <3   


A heart? Phil had sent him a fucking heart. This was the definition of feeling too many things at once. Excitement—Phil had sent him a heart. Guilt—that he hadn’t seen it until now. Fear—that he’d already lost this. That this would be the only ever heart.   


Dan drew in a deep breath, sucked it up and read the next message.    


Phil: I never know if that looks more like a heart or a… well, I meant it as a heart   


A smile tugged at Dan’s cheeks. Phil was such a massive dork, and Dan absolutely adored it. Adored that Phil was willing to be that massive dork around him.   


Phil: It could also be a carrot.   


After that message, there was a gap in the messages and a small time stamp that said it was sent like eight hours later.    


Phil: I know you’re probably busy, but I just had to tell you that I was at my mum’s house and my old laptop was there and it reminded me of my online internet persona, snowdude. i literally wrote this to some random girl I was basically catfishing by pretending to be an American snowboarder.   


He followed it up with a bunch of cry-laugh emojis. Dan thought about how if he’d been in a good place he would’ve felt so warm when Phil sent that, that he chose to share it with Dan. He would’ve loved that Phil had referred to Buckingham Palace as his “mum’s house”. He would’ve loved that 

Phil was so hopelessly awkward in the absolute best way. He would have probably used it as an excuse to start calling Phil ‘bab’.   


But now it was just something Dan had responded to… now “Hey bab. U dint respond to my last mail. was thinking bout u a lot…” was actually a little fucking sad.   


Phil: Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry but I just have to share this shame with somebody “thanks for saying I could be your bf. I wrote ur name on a pice of paper and put it in my wallet” like come on Philip get some self respect lol   


Dan just felt so sad. He wanted so desperately to have been here when Phil sent those messages, to have been able to laugh with Phil and share with him his own embarrassing shit. Maybe even get more adorable stories out of Phil. But he hadn’t been… he hadn’t been.    


The next message wasn’t sent until a day later.   


Phil: Hey bab. U dint respond to my last mail. was thinking bout u a lot… sorry, i’m kidding, couldn’t help. That joke was just right there and I could not pass it up.    


The last text was sent maybe a half a day ago.   


Phil: Sorry if I’m being weird. Or if I did something to make you uncomfortable. I don’t know. Anyway, hope you’re doing well. I’ll get out of your hair now.   


Dan hadn’t thought he could feel shittier. Well, he now knew he could definitely feel shittier.   


Dan started to type a response but he honestly wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure it could be conveyed over text message. Wasn’t sure text message was how Dan really wanted to explain this to Phil.   


It was a long shot, but he drew in a deep breath, and rang Phil.   


It rang and rang and nothing.    


He wondered if Phil was busy or just hadn’t heard it or if he was ignoring Dan. If Phil was ignoring Dan, Dan deserved it.   


Dan: hey, i’m sorry. i understand if you’re like totally pissed at me, but if not, you can text me or call me back or whatever. i’ll answer. i promise.   


Phil didn’t text back though. Not all day long, even though Dan had his phone in his hand or nearby the entire day. The only time he’d used it all though was to call his therapist, who luckily had an appointment slot available for tomorrow from a cancellation.    


“Maybe we could go to movie tonight?” Nick asked. “Not sure what’s out to see though.”   


“Sorry, man, I can’t.”   


“Okay, why not?”    


Dan glanced up at Nick for a moment and then back down at his phone. “Just busy.”   


“You’ve been staring at your phone all day. You might need to out a little.”   


“So I stop staring at this screen just to go stare at bigger one?”   


“Yes.” Nick grinned.“I’ll buy you popcorn.”   


“I really can’t.” Dan just returned his attention to his phone and worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “I’m waiting for Phil to text me back.”   


“He might be the prince but I think he can wait for you to get out of a movie.”   


“No,” Dan snapped. “I have to be able to answer immediately.”   


“Dude, what?”   


Dan sighed. “I ignored him for like three days, Nick.”   


“So what? You’ve ignored me for three days before.”   


“Yeah, well, I’ve never kissed you,” Dan grumbled, still just staring at his phone wishing for Phil to answer.   


“You kissed him? What the fuck?” Nick nearly shouted.   


Dan gave Nick a look. “Can you chill?”   


“How did you not tell me?”   


“Because it was just… I don’t know… I just didn’t.”   


Nick hesitated before saying, “Was it good?”   


“Nick!”   


“What? I’m curious.”   


“It was good.” Dan let out a breath. “Like really fucking good. You can’t tell anyone.”   


“Yeah, of course not.”   


“Thanks.”   


Nick gave Dan a small smile. “I hope he calls back.”   


Dan sighed. “Me too.”   


Nick was making to leave the room when he stopped. “Oh and hey, I didn’t have a chance to ask you this earlier, but Joe’s coming into town with his girlfriend and wanted to do dinner.”   


“That’s great.” Dan’s eyes were glued to that phone screen that just wasn’t fucking changing. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve seen him.”   


“Yeah, so I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with us?”   


“With you and your brother and his girlfriend?” Dan asked.   


“Uh… yep.”   


Dan shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”   


Nick started to walk away again, and this time it was Dan who stopped him.    


“Do you want to like rent a movie to watch here though?” Dan asked. “I’ll have to ditch if Phil calls though.”  
Nick smiled. “Do you know if we have any microwave popcorn left?”  
  
  
They did have some microwave popcorn left, and they sat on the sofa eating it as the telly flickered in front of them. About halfway through the movie, Dan’s phone buzzed in his pocket. His stomach flipped and he looked down at his phone. Phil. Phil was actually calling him back.  


“Oh my God, it’s him,” Dan said.   


“Go. Take it,” Nick said, pausing the movie.   


Dan pressed the green button to accept the call, then drew in a deep breath as he put the  phone to his ear.   


“Phil,” he said quickly.   


“Dan,” he heard Phil say. God, it was good to hear his voice. Almost disconcertingly good.   


“Hi.” Dan mentally berated himself for being so fucking awkward as he made his way back to his bedroom. “I’m sorry.”   


“You don’t have to be sorry,” Phil said. “I’m sorry for sending you like twelve texts.”   


“It was only seven texts,” Dan replied.   


“I sent you seven texts?” Phil let out a small groan. “Take a hint, Phil, right?”   


“No,” Dan said quickly. “It wasn’t a hint.”   


“If what happened between us has made you feel uncomfortable with me, I’m genuinely sorry.” Phil sounded more formal when was nervous.    


“I kissed you so don’t be—”   


“But I’m—”   


“You’re what?”   


He hesitated, “In a position of some authority.”   


Dan accidentally laughed. Some authority. This man Dan was talking to on the phone would be king some day.   


“Your dad was a commoner,” Dan said, immediately regretting it. “Not that, I mean, not to compare myself to… I just mean—”   


“You’re right, Dan. I would just never want to… take advantage of my position. I was a little worried that maybe you were concerned about that, about my title. That after we… it would start to make you uncomfortable.”   


“It didn’t. It doesn’t. I promise.”   


“If you’re sure,” Phil said.   


“I am. I really am.”   


There was a moment of silence, then Phil added, “So you were just busy the past few days?”   


Dan could lie. He honestly considered it because it was hard to put himself out there, but if there was anything he’d learned from his friendship with 

Nick was that if you wanted to be close to someone, you had to be vulnerable with them.   


“No. I wasn’t doing much of anything honestly.”   


“Oh?”   


Dan’s heart was pounding and he let out a steadying breath to calm himself. “You remember how I mentioned to you about depression recovery?”   


“Of course. I, um, I actually I watched your video. I hope that was alright.”   


Phil had seen “Daniel and Depression”? It made him feel a little weird but that video was up for public consumption.    


“It’s fine. I just… you know how in that video I said that sometimes I wake up and I’m like a ghost version of myself?”   


“I’m sorry.”   


“It’s fine. Mostly. It’s just something that is. It’s not all the time, but the kind of depression I have, it’s chronic and I manage it, but it can and does come back for periods of time.”   


“And here I was, bothering you with stupid texts. Are you feeling any better?”   


“Yeah,” Dan said. “I’m feeling like myself again. Just tired. It really wipes me out, even though I don’t do anything.”   


“If there’s anything I can do… if you want to talk about it or—”   


“Just let me tell you I’m sorry.”   


“Dan, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”   


“Well, I am, alright? I’m especially sorry I missed that whole snowdude thing.”   


“I’m not!” Phil said. “I can’t believe I sent that to you.”   


“You did, though, and I’m invested now. I need to know how it all ended.”   


“I talked to her about Buffy too much and she broke up with me.”   


“Hey, Buffy’s great she should’ve thanked you.”   


“I know, right?” Phil said. “I don’t think anything will ever top that show for me in terms of how much I cared about it.”

“Tell me about it,” Dan said, leaning back on his bed, propping his head up with his arms.   


“About Buffy?”   


“Yeah, like what about it meant so much to you?”   


“You really want to know?”   


“Yeah, Phil. Absolutely.”    


Dan wasn’t exaggerating at all. He wanted to hear Phil’s voice, wanted to hear it wrapped in the excitement of talking about something that he cared  about a lot.    


“I don’t… I’m not sure. It was all the fun, you know, lore and that, but it was just… I think I really liked how she had this responsibility. She didn’t ask  for it, really, or want it all the time, but she still kicked ass at it. She was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At the same time, she also had this secret life. Like she had to be one person some of the time and another person other times.”   


“You really related to Buffy, didn’t you?” Dan asked.   


“Sort of. I think it was more like I idealized her. Like she was my ideal self.” Phil laughed awkwardly. “That probably sounds really weird.”   


“It doesn’t. I get it, and t here was also David Boreanaz so…” Dan said.   


“I never knew where to look when I was watching that show,” Phil said.   


“Me either, mate.”    


Phil kept talking about Buffy for a while, then segued into newer stuff that he liked. Apparently, Phil had a Nintendo Switch and was obsessed with the new Zelda game. He wasn’t pleased to find out just how much better at it Dan was.   


“Are you some kind of video game savant?” Phil asked.   


“I just don’t have a life, Phil. Plenty of time to practice.”   


“And you get paid to practice,” Phil said. “I watched part of your video with Nick the other day. It looked fun.”   


“Yeah,” Dan said. “I don’t have guests on the gaming channel much, but it’s fun sometimes. It’s hard because you have to find someone you have rapport with, you know? That works well with you. Otherwise, you’re way better off alone.”   


“Hey, uh, speaking of rapport… can I ask you something?”   


“Sure,” Dan said. “What’s up?”   


“You can totally say no. It’s probably imprudent to ask after what you just told me, but I do want to let you know, and again, it’s absolutely no problem if you can’t or don’t want—”   


“Just tell me, Phil.”   


“I have to give like a presentation at a secondary school in a few weeks. It’s just a thing about you know community involvement and civic duty, but you know how I feel about public speaking. This has nothing to do with Stop, Speak, Support or anything like that. It’s just something I’m doing.”   


“Okay.”   


Phil let out a breath. “Would you want to do it with me?”   


“Yeah,” Dan said, probably a little too quickly. “I mean, when it is? What do I need to do?”   


“Well, it’s the day after tomorrow.”   


Shit. That was some short notice.   


“The day after—”   


“If you can’t, it’s seriously fine. I just thought it was fun when we did the last event together.”   


“It was. Um, sure. Do I need to like prepare or—?”   


“Not really. I’ll send you the speech I’m giving, but then I figured we could do a q and a like we did before, and then you could just answer questions  with me.”   


The idea was nerve-wracking, but also super exciting. Phil was inviting him to do this just because he thought they got on well together. Dan felt the same way.   


“I’m in,” Dan said.   


“Seriously?”   


“Yeah, let’s do it.”   


They kept on talking for awhile longer, but it was starting to get late and Phil had an early morning the next day.   


“I’d keep talking, but I will literally fall asleep at work tomorrow if I do,” Phil said.   


“Okay…”   


There was a pause. “I don’t want to hang up.”   


“I don’t want you to either.”   


“I’ll see you the day after tomorrow though.”   


Dan smiled, feeling suddenly warm. “I can’t wait.”   


“Me either.”   


“I’ll text you tomorrow, okay? Something embarrassing to match your snowdude shame.”   


Phil laughed. God, Dan loved that laugh. “I’ll hold you to that,” Phil said. “Good night, Dan.”   


“Night, Phil.”   


When Phil was off the phone, Dan turned on his side, squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a sigh of relief. Phil didn’t hate him, and they’d talked for hours, and he felt wonderful and warm all the way from his head to his feet.   
  


The next morning, he had a voicemail from Emily. It was pretty typical for her to leave these, and Dan listened to it while he was in the shower.    


“Hey, Dan, I haven’t talked you in a while and you haven’t been active on your accounts, which I don’t need to remind you you need to be doing. A liveshow or posting a dinof wouldn’t be remiss either. Just saying. Anyway, I got a call from Google and they want you to do like a speech for curmudgeon-y investors or something. It’s tomorrow. Crazy short notice, but the person that was scheduled bailed so, yeah, they asked if maybe you could step in. Call me back.”   


Normally, Dan would say yes. Google wasn’t really his boss but sometimes it felt like they were, so it was hard to say no. But, legally Phil was more of his boss than Google, and that was actually a weird way to think about it, so he was going to not do that and ring Emily instead to let her know he couldn’t do it.   


“Hey, Dan. Did you get my message?”   


“Uh, yeah, I did,” Dan said, a little warily.   


“You can do it, right?”   


“Actually, I can’t,” he said.   


There was a long pause. “Why on earth not? I mean I know it’s short notice—”   


“I have… other plans.” Dan knew he was going to have to tell Emily what those other plans were. He couldn’t possibly get off that easily.   


“Other plans? Dan if you’re blowing this off for some hook-up I swear to God.”   


“Jesus, Em, it’s not a date.”   


“Sorry.” She let out a breath. “What is it then?”   


Just say it. Now or never. “Prince Philip asked me to do a talk with him tomorrow at a school.”  
He got nothing back from Emily but silence.  


“Em?”   


“That doesn’t make sense.”   


“What doesn’t make sense?”   


“Why didn’t the prince’s people contact me rather than contacting you directly? They’ve done so every time before.”   


Dan rubbed at the back of his neck. “The prince’s people didn’t ask me, Em. The prince did. Like on the phone.”   


He was met with another long stretch of silence until finally she said, “The prince called you on the phone?”   


“Yeah.”   


“Why?”   


Dan let out a breath. “We talk… sometimes.”   


“You talk sometimes? Since when?”   


“Since right after the meeting at Kensington Palace.” Dan conveniently left out meeting up with Phil a few times and the kiss. He definitely left out the kiss. Definitely.    


“Okay… why didn’t you tell me?”   


“Didn’t think was relevant.”   


“I’m not really sure what to say to this, Dan.”   


“You don’t have to say anything. I’m just busy tomorrow so tell Google I can’t.”   


“Can I tell them why?”   


“I’m not sure, I’ll ask Phil and get back to you,” Dan said.   


Fuck. He’d just referred to the prince as Phil in front of Emily.   


“Okay, well, you do that, Dan. Let me know.” She sounded pretty flat.   


“I’ll talk to you later, then,” Dan said, just desperately wanting this whole conversation to be over.   


“Hey, Dan?”   


“Yeah?”   


Emily let out a breath loud enough he could hear it over the phone. She sounded careful as she spoke. “If you’re ever in over your head with this, you’ll let me know, right?”   


Dan wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he was just really done talking about it. “Yeah, of course,” he said, then hung up.   


As he went on with his day—finally posting that dinof vid and going to therapy—Dan did his best not to worry about Emily’s reaction and just focus on tomorrow. Tomorrow, he was seeing Phil again


	19. Chapter 19

Dan loved a stage.

Maybe it came from his time in theatre at school, came from memorized and recited lines of _Hamlet._ Maybe it was the warmth of stage lights on his skin. Maybe it was his vanity, the eyes of all the people in the audience giving him their full attention. Maybe it was the feeling of control. He wasn’t sure, exactly where the love came from but it was there.

Dan loved a stage—but it still surprised him how much he loved a stage with Phil.

He wouldn’t have thought he’d enjoy having to share the spotlight, not when it was part of his working theory as to why he liked being on stage so much, but he didn’t mind it at all. He found he liked other people watching Phil. Found he wanted to make sure the audience understood the treat they were being given, wanted to make sure they were giving the prince the amount of attention he deserved.

As Phil spoke from the school’s auditorium stage, Dan had his body angled in toward Phil, hanging on this every word as he hoped the students in the audience were. They better have been. If they weren’t, Dan wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t scold them.

“You’re asking why you should try to make a difference when you’re ‘no one’?” Phil did air quotes around those words except he used all of his fingers instead of just the traditional two. It was kind of cute.

The student stood by the microphone nodded. “Um, yes, sir.”

“Well, I’m going to take issue with the premise that you’re no one. You’re as much someone as anyone else. But I think what you can do is recognize that difference is relative, that in the grand scheme of things, if you look at the universe or the great expanse of time or however you want to perceive it, you’re going to feel small, but if you look at things from on the ground and in the moment, you’re going to see you actually have a powerful influence on the lives of the people around you. From that perspective, what you do and how much of your generosity, talents and time you give to others matters profoundly.”

Dan just stared over at Phil from his chair. How could anyone think that this man would be a lesser kind of king?

“I think, also, you have to remember,” Dan added. “For the more nihilist among us, that it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t matter. Sometimes you don’t need to know why you’re trying or if you’re making a difference. Sometimes we just need to do it anyway.”

“T-thank you,” the student said, actually sounding sincere, and then turned and walked back to their seat in the auditorium.

Another student stepped up to the microphone and asked a question about ways to get involved in the community, and this went on for a while, different students asking different questions and Dan and Phil doing their best to answer them.

It was pretty incredible, Dan thought, the feeling of connection he felt being forged here. Obviously, he didn’t know of these teenagers personally and almost certainly never would, but there was something about him and Phil, on this stage, together, that felt right and safe, and Dan was certain this was an event in his life he’d never forget. And one he hoped that Phil would want to happen again.

Whatever was happening here between the two of them, and between those students in their audience felt special. Felt important.

Dan was in the middle of answering a question when he noticed some commotion off to the side of the stage. It made him lose his train of thought and it took him a moment to catch up with it again.

It was getting close to time for them to finish so Phil answered on more question, and then they made some closing comments before exiting the stage.

Maxwell immediately rushed up to Phil, almost knocking into Dan, and the headmaster rushed by both of them and onto the stage.

“Something’s happened,” Maxwell said. “Let’s move somewhere private to discuss—”

Dan didn’t hear the rest of what Maxwell was saying because his attention had been pulled away by the headmaster speaking on stage. He didn’t have a microphone—they were still attached to him and Phil—and so he was practically shouting.

“There’s been an incident nearby. We’ll have more information later, but for now, you’ll need to remain in this room and on campus.”

The students erupted, people were shouting questions and talking amongst each other. It took the headmaster putting his fingers in between his lips and whistling hard for them to even sort of quiet down.

“Everything is fine,” the headmaster said. “Just stay put.”

With that, he walked back off stage. “ _Is_ everything fine?” Dan asked the headmaster.

“I honestly don’t know.”

All eyes were turned on Maxwell, “Let’s discuss this somewhere else.”

 

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Dan asked as he, Phil, Maxwell, Emily and the school headmaster walked into a vacant nearby classroom.

“That is a very good question,” Emily said. Her face was pinched, and she looked as anxious as Dan felt.

“Except, Maxwell,” Dan said, shutting the door behind all of them.

“Maxwell, what’s happening?” Phil stepped forward. “Why can’t we leave?”

Maxwell didn’t answer. He had his finger to his earpiece. “Yes, Raven is here. He’s secure.” He dropped his hand away and turned his attention to Phil. “What was that, sir?”

“What is going on?” Phil added. “Why can’t we leave? What’s happened? Are people hurt?”

“Information is still coming in, but I don’t believe anyone is hurt,” Maxwell said.

Dan was cycling through all the different things that this could be and none of them were great.

“Can you please just say what’s happened?” Phil asked.

Maxwell eyed the others, then Phil said, “They’re fine.”

Maxwell set his mouth into a straight line. “It’ll be in the news soon enough anyway, but for now, this stays between us.”

“Of course,” Dan said, and Emily and the headmaster nodded.

“So far it doesn’t seem like there are any injuries, but there was an armed robbery at a nearby Metro Bank, and so they’ve closed off the surrounding streets and the schools have been asked to keep the students inside, while the police search for the suspects.”

“And we can’t tell this to the students?” Dan asked. “Who are like clearly freaking the hell out? Because they’re thinking—”

“Law enforcement has requested the matter not be discussed at this time.”

“How long are we going to be, you think?” Emily asked.

“I’m not sure how long you’ll be here,” Maxwell said, then turned to Phil. “But we should be going.”

Of course, Maxwell would have some special way out of here for Phil, but Dan was still going to be here, with those kids, those obviously terrified kids, and he needed to think of how to distract them, to make this better.

The headmaster cleared his throat. “I’ll get the students back into some classrooms, and we’ll keep their phones until—”

“Do you think I could use that large projector in the auditorium?” Dan blurted.

The headmaster blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I was just thinking, I could… distract them, right? I have my Nintendo Switch. I play games for an audience, that’s like what I do.”

The headmaster blinked, his brow furrowing. “It’s after school hours and the students would be less likely to gossip if… alright, yes, alright, Daniel.”

“What are you playing?” Phil asked.

Dan startled, looking at Phil with his head tilted. “What?”

“Yes, sir, what?” Maxwell looked confused as hell and Dan didn’t blame him.

“I have Zelda with me so I might play that,” Dan said. “I have Overcooked too but—”

“Overcooked is two players, right?” Phil asked.

“Yeah,” Dan said skeptically. “The gameplay is better with two people.”

“We’ll play that, then,” Phil said.

“We’ll…?” Dan blinked. “I’m sorry what’s happening.” Phil couldn’t possibly be suggesting that they were both going to play, could he?

“That is an excellent question, Mr. Howell,” Maxwell said. “What _is_ happening?”

“I’m staying,” Phil said easily, looking to Maxwell. Then, he turned to Dan. “I’m playing with you.”

Apparently, he could be suggesting just that.

Dan was speechless and just looked back at Phil with narrowed eyes. “Okay…”

Maxwell cleared his throat. “Sir, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”

Dan wasn’t a bit surprised Maxwell would want to talk Phil out of this.

Phil pressed his lips together, then said, “Sure.”

“I’m going to need everyone out of this room, right now,” Maxwell said. “Thank you.” It was not a sincere sounding thank you.

Dan, Emily and the school headmaster all filed out of the classroom and into the hallway. They didn’t say anything to each other. They all just stood against the lockers in total silence as they waited.

It was hard to hear, but the door wasn’t sound proof so Dan heard bits and pieces of what was being said.

“Sir, this is a matter of safety,” Maxwell said.

“And these kids have to stay here?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“If it’s safe enough here for a bunch of school children, it’s safe enough here for me.”

“Sir—”

“I’m staying, Maxwell. And that’s that.”

Moments later, the door opened back up and Phil stepped into the hallway with Maxwell behind him.

“You’re all set to go, Dan?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded, still a bit in shock. “Um, uh, yeah. Yep, let’s go.” He let his gaze moved over to Maxwell briefly. He did not look happy. Not at all.

And Dan… well, Dan had no idea how to feel.

 

Dan could not believe they were actually doing this as he walked onto the stage. All the students were talking loudly amongst themselves and their voices were echoing through the auditorium. Dan walked to center stage and cleared his throat.

The room grew a little quieter, but people were still chatting.

“Hi everyone,” he said loudly to get everyone’s attention and it mostly worked. “I’m back. Yay? Maybe. I guess I don’t know.”

Someone in the audience shouted, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, guys. I don’t really have much information on what’s happening right now, but we’re all going to be stuck here together.” He looked over to stage right and saw Phil standing there, whispering to Maxwell, then he started walking towards Dan.

“And by we all,” Dan continued. “I really mean _we_ all.”

There was another rumble in the crowd, and the students started to stand and, even from a distance, Dan could see the confused expressions on their faces.

“Please, everyone,” Phil said. “You can sit down. I just figured we could spend some time together while we wait this thing out.”

“Yep, just a casual hang.” Dan turned the audience and shrugged his shoulders and gave them an awkward smile.

Dan let out a breath and added on, “A casual hang where I play video games with the prince.” He laughed. “My life has gotten weird.”

“So, what are we playing?” Phil asked.

“Well,” Dan said. “I figured I’m hungry, you’re hungry, they’re all hungry, why not torture ourselves with a good game of Overcooked?”

Dan could not believe this happening. He was going to play a Switch game live in front of a large, and captive audience, with the actual prince of his country. This could go really poorly, couldn’t it? People might not like the idea of the prince doing something like this. It wasn’t exactly princely… oh well, it was Phil’s idea and they couldn’t back out of it now.

“Have you ever played this before, sir?” Dan asked.

Phil sat down in the seat he’d been in earlier. “I have, actually. Some. It’s difficult with one person though.”

“It is,” Dan said. “Thankfully, today, we have two people.” He handed Phil one of the remotes and then sat down in the chair beside him.

Holy fuck, this was actually happening.

 

It felt, well, a little awkward at first. Dan didn’t even do collabs often and there he was, on stage, trying to play a rather ridiculous game about cooking to stop an evil meatball from overthrowing the onion king and becoming the new ruler of the onion kingdom. Dan didn’t even want to touch how weird it was playing that with a future king. Regardless, the audience was still stiff and on edge from worrying about what was going on beyond these doors. Dan couldn’t blame them for that, but and overall, the situation was probably just _fucking_ weird. Here was this awkward, nerdy nobody youtuber playing Nintendo Switch in a school auditorium with the prince. The actual prince, who he’d kissed before but no one knew. No matter how many eyes were on him right now, it’s not like any of them could know that.

What the hell was his life? Like what the actual hell?

But it actually took less time for them to settle into it than he expected. Less time for the audience to loosen up and focus on them and Dan was glad Phil was here. Maybe, like Maxwell, he should have wanted to Phil to get out of here, but he didn’t. He liked that Phil had stayed. Right or wrong, it was kind of hot that Phil had stayed.

He was glad Phil was, and that it felt like _this._ Like just playing together, despite the absolute ridiculousness of the situation.

“What’s the name of this onion themed restaurant? I’m not quite sure,” Dan said, as his on-screen character whacked away the onions.

Phil was doing some chopping of his own. “I’m feeling bad for master onion. Are we eating his children right now?”

Dan blinked, his brow furrowing. “Yeah…?”

“Are we eating his mother?” Phil’s voice pitched a little higher. He sounded casual, and kind of cute. It seemed impossible what was happening right now. How easy it felt, how casual and a little intimate even with all these people watching.

“You’re asking the real questions here.”

“Is this his grandma we’re about to put into our mouth?”

“Well no wonder there’s some kind of like revolution if the things that we are cooking right now are sentient,” Dan replied.

“Yeah.”

“Like King Onion Children.”

“We’ve got 56 seconds. Onion race.” Phil shouted, then his character picked up an onion and took off toward the cutting board. Dan grabbed an onion of his own as Phil kept on saying, “Onion race Onion race.”

Dan got to the cutting board before Phil did and said softly, “Sir, you lost the onion race.”Phil looked over at him, his eyes slightly narrowed, and it made Dan’s stomach flip, made his cheeks warm. _Damn._ He hoped no one watching them could see the way that simple look made him feel.

 _It’s fine._ _It might feel like something to you, but it looks like nothing to them._

He turned his attention back to the game. “Okay, we’ve got eight seconds.”

“I’m working so hard on this onion,” Phil said. And he _was_ concentrated in this adorable way that had his tongue slightly pinched between his lips.

Dan was feeling playful and they wouldn’t be able to do anymore in the game so he just said, “This is not happening. Chef fight. Chef fight,” and he started pummeling Phil’s character with his own, but Phil didn’t take it lying down and fought back.

The audience was laughing and they were laughing. It was wonderful and surreal, and then the timer ran out.

“I don’t remember what the number is,” Phil said. He meant the points for the orders they’d completed.

The score came up on the screen and they’d served enough food to get three stars—the maximum number of stars.

Dan put his arms into the air in celebration. “Yes, kings of soup!”

Phil was grinning beside him and the audience was clapping and there was this inexplicable excitement bubbling and burning inside Dan. It was like how he’d felt doing his stage show, but cranked up to a thousand. It was all the good things about that combined with the electric _just right_ buzz he always felt around Phil.

This was easy, too easy, _wonderfully_ easy, and it just kept feeling easier as they kept on playing.

“I feel like I’m born to do the cooking,” Phil announced with a soft confidence. Dan felt like he was born to do this—with Phil—whatever it was. But he couldn’t really think about that right then.

“What is the cooking and what is not the cooking? Is the chopping the cooking, is the passing ingredients?” Dan teased him. It was just so natural to tease him, to feel giddy and playful. Maybe he should or could dial it back, but he didn’t want to. Phil didn’t seem to mind and Dan could feel the audience was with him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt that kind of energy in his life.

It was addicting.

` “Look, we’re nearly there,” Phil said. “I can taste the victory.”

“The next time we do this, I am designating roles, okay? Are you happy with this arrangement?” There wasn’t anything sexual about what Dan was saying, but it almost felt like a flirtation. If he wasn’t flirting with Phil, at least he wanted to be. He always wanted to be, even when he couldn’t.

Phil’s lip quirked into a smile. “Yeah.”

Dan looked at the orders they had and the time. “We can maybe do—no we can’t just get ready to serve that.” Despite all the other distractions, Dan was still into the game and excited to play, and his high-energy, competitive spirit was impossible to calm sometimes. “Clean plate, sir. In the, on the sink thing. Plate it. Plate it. Plate—“

“I’m going. I’m going,” Phil replied with a matching panic, even though Phil was definitely not keeping up with what he needed to be doing if they were going to finish off the last orders they had.

“Alright, Plate it,” Dan said, still frantic and caught up int he game. There you go. Pass me an onion. Pass me an onion, pass me a _single_ — _”_ Time was almost up _. “_ We’re not gonna do this. It’s not gonna—“

Phil sighed. “We’re not.”

“Okay.”

“Was that enough? I feel like that was a two star.”

The score came up on the screen. Phil was right. Two stars.

Dan frowned. “Great.” But he wasn’t really upset. He wasn’t upset at all. This had been incredible. And even that felt like a word that sold this feeling inside him and all around him short.

Phil leaned over toward him. “I feel like we were both to blame there.” He exaggerated his voice a little. There was something cheeky about it that told Dan that Phil knew he hadn’t done well in that last round and he just wanted to tease Dan.

It turned Dan on when Phil teased him and now was not the time.

“That was deep shame,” Dan said, trying not to think about anything but the game. But this was about everything but the game.

“You tell us who is to blame,” Phil said. “Clap if you think it was me?” There were a few quiet, stray claps from some rebels who apparently weren’t afraid to call their future king out.Phil gave Dan a look. “Or was it Dan?”

The audience erupted into applause.

“Yeah, yeah. Right, of course, it’s my fault.” Dan rolled his eyes. He was trying to keep his composure despite the warm and new feelings he could barely describe.

Phil gave him a cheeky grin. “I really was holding up my end. It was you. I don’t know what you were doing.”

Dan nodded. “I’m definitely the hindrance here.”

“You are and I’m glad you can see that.”

It was so easy with Phil. So natural. And people responded to it— _loved_ it—in a way he couldn’t even put into words. Dan had been a creator and performer for a long time, and he did great on his own. But this was something altogether different. He’d never felt anything like it in his life and he wondered if anyone else had ever felt anything like this. He could barely believe they had. Ridiculous, narcissistic, Dan knew, but it just seemed like too much energy to fit in the universe twice.

 

 

Twenty minutes later, it was over. The police had captured both suspects and everyone was free to go, so Dan and Phil finished up their game and exited the stage. Dan was still so buzzed on what had just happened he could barely think straight.

Dan walked back into the classroom they’d met in earlier. Phil and _just_ Phil trailing behind.

Dan’s heart was pounding hard enough he could hear it in his ears. There were tingles running all over his skin, up and down, everywhere. He was giddy. He was excited. He was electrified.

“So _that_ fucking happened.” Dan spun around to see Phil walking in behind him and shutting the door. There was sweat-sheen across his forehead and a little around his lips, and Dan could feel that he was a little sweaty too from the lights shining down on them in the auditorium. Dan didn’t care about the sweat, other than the fact that it looked a little sexy on Phil. There was just something about the idea that they’d worked themselves up like this together.

All the lights in the classroom were off. Neither Dan nor Phil had flipped on the switch as they’d passed it coming in. The only light in the room was coming through the slats in the thin, white blinds covering the windows to the left. Dan could barely see the rows of desks, the vague motivational posters hung on the walls or the large teacher’s desk behind him. He didn’t know, though, if that was from the lack of light or from the fact that all his attention was being taken by the man in front of him.

Prince Philip—looking like this—his quiff slightly tussled, that slight sheen of sweat, his bottom lip dropped down just a little. Dan could hear his breaths too. It was the only thing he could hear. Slow, deep breaths and Phil was staring at him. His brow drawn together and his eyes intensely focused.

Phil started walking towards Dan and suddenly he was there, right there, where he hadn’t been before. Dan breathed in and smelled that woodsy cologne he’d smelled right before they’d kissed.

And then they were kissing _again_.

Now, here, at _this_ moment, Phil’s mouth was on his, a firm and feverish pressure that had Dan reeling.

Dan pulled away to gasp for air. He hadn’t gotten the chance to breathe in before he’d been kissed and he had to have it now or might just pass out.

“Fuck,” Dan said, and then, he was on Phil again.

Dan’s hands were sliding over Phil’s broad shoulders. He could actually feel him this time, not just his mouth but his body. He could touch, actually touch, and he was just craving more of it beneath his hands. Dan wanted to know the ridges of Phil’s shoulders and the ripple of his spine, and he desperately chased out that knowledge with his fingers.

He felt Phil’s tongue slip into his mouth and feel its way between his teeth. Dan let Phil lick against the roof of his mouth and slide his tongue along grooves of his teeth, and Dan wondered if he was using that tongue the same way Dan was using his fingers. To explore. To map out, like Mercator projection hanging on the wall behind them.

Phil had his hands just below Dan’s chest and he was pushing him back, but not away. No, not away because Phil was following him, never letting Dan’s mouth find more than a sliver of distance from his own. Not that Dan wanted that distance. He didn’t. God help him, he didn’t.

He wanted this instead.

Dan wanted Phil wanting him.

The backs of his thighs were pressed against the teacher’s desk, and when Phil kept pushing him back, Dan didn’t hesitate to hop onto the desk. A cup of pencils spilled onto the desk and clattered, but Dan didn’t care. Phil didn’t seem to either, especially when Dan opened his legs and Phil was able to step between them.

Phil’s hands were in Dan’s hair as he kissed him. Deep and wet and hot and desperate. Phil would bite at his lips, tug on his big bottom one with wonderful bites. Each kiss just made Dan more in need for the next one. Just made him want to open his mouth and let Phil have more of him.

Dan rubbed his foot along Phil’s calf and Phil let out a sound to rival any other sound ever made. A deep groan that made Dan aware he’d grown hard. He didn’t care. Of course, he was hard. Of course, his body was on fire for this. Of course, it wanted more. Every part of Dan wanted more.

Phil’s mouth left Dan’s mouth, and it felt like the worst moment of his life until Phil moved his lips to Dan’s neck—to the fragile-thin skin of his sensitive neck.

“Phil,” Dan whimpered.

Phil gave him a little bite and then ran his lips lightly over the mark, then he slid those lips up, up, to Dan’s ear. He sucked on Dan’s lobe, and Dan could feel him playing with the little hoop piercing him there.

This was it. This was going to absolutely demolish him.

Dan couldn’t take it any longer and moved Phil’s mouth back to his, dived into a deeper kiss. He could feel the wetness cooling where Phil’s lips had just been.

Dan wanted to wrap his legs around Phil’s thighs and pull him in closer. He wanted to drop to his knees. Hell, he wanted to bend over this desk and let Phil tug down his trousers, but there were people just down the hall. People who could walk in at any moment.

“Phil,” Dan said when he had a quick reprieve from Phil’s kiss. “Phil.”

“Hmm… what?” Phil was breathing heavily, his whole chest heaving.

Dan placed a gentle hand on Phil’s chest.

“We’re in a school classroom.”

“Yeah, so,” Phil started to dive back in for another kiss, but then diverted and dropped his head to Dan’s shoulder. He let out a low groan. “We’re in a _school classroom._ Fuck. _”_

Dan thumped the globe beside him on the desk with a flick of his finger. “A geography one from the looks of it.”

Phil pulled back and looked Dan in the eye, then he stepped from between Dan’s legs and pressed down on the bulge with the inside of his wrist. “We shouldn’t have… but that was…”

Dan hopped off the desk, unable to hold back his smile. “It definitely was.”


	20. Chapter 20

Some kid had their goddamn iphone.

Dan figured that probably all of them had their goddamn iphones, but they were supposed to keep them in their pockets or in their backpacks, which hadn't even been allowed in the auditorium. But somehow, one of those fucking kids had managed to record about a four minute clip of Dan playing Overcooked with Phil. And what did they do? Posted it to their Twitter. Of course they did.

He probably shouldn’t have been so surprised or even so pissed that it had happened—or word had gotten out. There had never been any way around word getting out. From the moment they decided to do this thing, word was going to get out. Even if there hadn’t been footage, people would have been talking about it. Those kids would have told their bizarre story. But, now, instead of just a bizarre story, there was actual footage. Not only was it circulating social media, but it had wound up in the morning news. 

The BBC morning fucking news.

Some people didn’t like that the prince had been playing video games. That wasn’t a shock to anyone. It was a pretty down-to-earth, casual position Phil had put himself in, but the crazy part? Those people who were bothered by it seemed to be a minority. The part that had Dan stressed out and keyed up and hooked to the telly and his phone, like he knew he shouldn’t be? Most people seemed to respond to it. Really, really well.

That was great for Phil, honestly, who struggled to find his footing under Martyn’s shadow. Dan had spent years—and especially in the time since Martyn passed—listening to people talk about how Prince Philip seemed nice enough, but too nervous, too awkward, too shy—just not what you think of when you think of royalty. So seeing people watching this clip of them, and not just the clip, but being aware of the context—that Phil had stayed to make scared school children feel safe—and realizing what Dan had always known, that there was more to Phil than met the eye, that was pretty fucking great.

The problem was the question so many people were asking now: who was the other guy?

It was pretty easy to find out, but now there were articles popping up like  _ Who is Dan Howell? Who was that with Prince Philip? Meet the Gay Youtuber Who Played Video Games with the Prince.  _ The number of times he’d been referred to in those articles as “the gay youtuber” was pretty astounding seeing as he wasn’t actually gay. Bisexual but not really into labels just didn’t have the same ring to it apparently. 

Yesterday, he’d had to deal with texts from Emily. Dan was starting to worry that she’d end up asking questions about Dan and Prince Philip and he didn’t want to directly lie to her any more than he already had. And he was glad she’d left him alone today. Well, except for a single text.

Emily: oh, i forgot to tell you. you got invited to the Star Wars premiere next month. You’ve got a plus one too btw.

But, yesterday, it had been all about the damn clip.

Emily: I’m fielding a lot of calls about this, you know.

Dan: am i taking any of them?

Emily: Absolutely not.

Dan: people aren’t going to stop asking about it.

Emily: They’ve asked me not to.

Dan: they?

Emily: The prince’s people. They’ve asked me to tell you to refrain from any comments.

Dan: so they want me to pretend it never happened? i mean that’s fine, i’m just curious.

Emily: Sounds like it. Honestly, I think it’s for the best. It wasn’t something either of you did for attention or publicity. It was something you did for those kids, so let it just be that.

Dan: yeah, you’re right. i agree. thanks, em.

But, just because he said it to her, didn’t mean he actually knew how to let it go. It didn’t mean he wasn’t sniffing around on Twitter and Tumblr and wherever else to see their reactions. Because he was. He was doing it right now. Something really, really really stupid right now. 

He went to tumblr and went to the search bar and he typed in the word “phan” and pressed enter.

And there was  _ stuff. _

Stuff like there had been after the first Stop, Speak, Support meeting but worse,  _ more. _

There were gifs of the clips. There was art. There were short fics and the start of longer fics, and there was meta. People actually speculating. He shouldn’t have been scrolling through this, shouldn’t have been reading any of it, but he couldn’t help it.

Since their ship had taken off, Dan occasionally checked out dick stuff but that was different than this. Dick was funny because it wasn’t true. This was not funny. This was having an uncomfortable spotlight shone on something new and precious, something Dan wanted to keep to himself. 

Dan could feel his heart beating faster, could feel the panic start to clench through his body.  What if Phil found out about it? Would he be upset? Would it make him see Dan differently, even though technically he had almost no control over this? A part of Dan wanted to get on a liveshow and tell his fans to chill, but he’d promised not to talk about it and he didn’t want to cause Phil any more trouble. But this was a lot. Just seeing it all laid out there like this.

_ Oh my god, guys. What if like when Dan met Prince Philip at Stop, Speak, Support they actually became friends? I mean, it happened with Nick, right? Like they clearly have chemistry. That clip is short, but it’s obvious. You can’t deny it. I’m team dick for life, but still. S T I L L.  _

There was:

_ Zoom in on the clip. Like fucking zoom in and you’ll see it. The prince is looking at Dan like… I don’t even know, like he’s a little bit in love or something. This is some wild shit. _

And there was also:

_ Ugh, I just really want everyone to stop talking about phan. It’s stupid. He’s the prince and we all know Dan is with Nick. I mean. Emily is not even bearding for them anymore, and Nick is like living in Dan’s flat. And did you even see them in the Mario Kart vid? It’s silly how much they’re clearly in love. Dan does two PROFESSIONAL things with the actual prince of England and all y’all are acting like they sucked each other off on stage. And some of you (fucking Twitter dandom) are actually sending phan shit to Dan or putting it in the main tags. This is why he shuts off from us sometimes and it just makes me so mad. Like if any of you mess up the work he’s doing with the royal foundation, i seriously hope you’re proud of yourself! ugh.  _

It would never stop being weird to Dan to read things about Emily bearding for them. She’d never minded the rumors, but he knew Nick had hated them. Nick had wanted to be much more open about their relationship than they ever had the chance to be and her always wanting to hide had hurt him. But it was also weird to Dan to see this person be so certain that there was nothing going on between Dan and the prince. Like it was the stupidest thing they’d ever heard. In a way—in  _ a lot  _ of ways—Dan knew where they were coming from. But, regardless of the probability, it had happened. Had actually happened. 

Dan wondered how they’d feel if they knew about the kiss in the Tower of London, or about what had happened in that classroom, not too long after the now-infamous clip had been recorded. He wondered how they’d feel if they knew how much Dan had loved having his hands all over the prince’s body and the prince’s hands all over his. He wondered how they’d feel to know Dan knew how their lips fit together and how Phil’s tongue tasted. The way he smelled. The small, breathy noises he would make. Mostly, Dan wondered how they’d feel to know how Dan felt about Phil. About how much he was beginning to let himself feel.

Dan was shocked from his thoughts by his phone buzzing in his hand. His lips curled into a smile.

_ Speak of the devil. _

Dan answered the call, “Hey, Phil.”

“How  _ are _ you, Dan?”

“I’m fine… how are you?” 

“I’m good.” He sighed. “I’m so sorry about the media circus.”

Dan laughed. “You’re sorry? Mate, I should be the one that’s sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was the one that wanted to play the Nintendo Switch in front of an auditorium full of teenagers with cell phones and twitter accounts.”

“It was my choice to join you,” Phil said.

“Yeah, and I should’ve warned you, my audience documents everything.”

Phil said nothing for a moment. The silence made Dan squirm a little on the lounge sofa. 

“I would’ve done it anyway, you know. You couldn’t have talked me out of it. And honestly, I’d do it again.”

That made Dan smile. He was glad that Phil didn’t regret what they’d done, even after everything. 

“Good. Me too.”

“You know what else I’d do again?” Phil asked.

Dan smiled, biting his lip as he leaned back against the sofa. “What?”

“What we did, um… after.”

“Me too.” Dan shut his eyes and let out a soft breath. “Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, Dan.” Phil sounded so sincere that it flooded warmth through Dan.

“You’re… you’re a really good kisser.” He could feel himself blush. It was hard to confess things like this. Dan wasn’t used to giving the parts of himself he normally protected, even in small bites.

“You… you are too. So good.”

“I kind of want to do it again,” Dan said carefully, even though he didn’t mean it carefully. He meant it pretty damn recklessly. 

“Just kind of?”

“No, Phil,” Dan let out a shaky breath. “Not just kind of.”

“Can I see you Monday?” Phil blurted, a little nervously. “It’s the only day I’m free this week.”

Dan wanted to say yes, but he caught it in his throat before he could. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Oh, oh that’s okay—”

“I want to. I just have to go to dinner with Nick and his brother and his brother’s girlfriend. I promised I wouldn’t make him third wheel."

“The ocean cake brother?” Phil asked.

Dan laughed. “Yeah, the ocean cake brother.”

“But like any other time. Maybe next week?” He didn’t want next week. He wanted right the fuck now. 

“I can’t then. I’m going to be in Manchester all next week.”

Dan let out a sigh. “Well, that fucking sucks.”

“It does. It does definitely suck,” Phil said. 

“You’ll have to like text me though. Keep me updated on your northern exploits.”

“My grandad does love a good exploit.”

“Your dad’s dad?” Dan asked, even though he knew that. “Sorry. Obviously.” Phil’s other grandad was, of course, the late king. 

Phil laughed softly. Dan already didn’t know how he’d function without that laugh. “He’s been feeling a little poorly, so I thought I’d take a holiday up to visit him. Besides, I always liked Manchester.”

“I went to uni in Manchester,” Dan said.

“Did you really?”

“For law. Dropped out a year later. I was terrible at it. Had a stint of couch surfing before my youtube channel finally started paying enough for me to get a shitty flat. I eventually moved to London and the rest is history.”

Phil didn’t respond for long enough that Dan thought maybe he’d lost him.

“Phil, are you there?”

“Yes, sorry. I was picturing you as a lawyer.”

“Oh, I see. That’s your kink, sir? Powdered wigs.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Daniel?”

Dan felt heat start in his face and rush over his shoulders. Yes. He would absolutely fucking love to know.

“I think if you don’t tell me what your actual kinks are I’m going to have to spend my life imagining your niche pornhub interests and it won’t be pretty.”  _ Fuck.  _ Dan could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. God, why did he have to be such a horny idiot and take everything too far.

“You have your furries and I have my—”

“I’m not actually a furry!” Dan said quickly, suddenly afraid Phil had a very inaccurate picture of Dan’s sex. “That’s just like branding.”

“We better call this whole thing off then,” Phil said. “I signed up for some furry action.”

“Yiff canceled.”

“What’s yiff?” Phil asked, and Dan saw his entire life flash before his eyes. 

“Uhhh….”  _ Fuck.  _ “Um, yiff is like. It’s like furry slang for, um, sex.”

Phil’s voice lowered, “Our sex was cancelled. I didn’t even realized you’d scheduled me in.”

“ _ Phil. _ ”

“Sorry, if I’m being… I’m just—”

“You’re not,” Dan said. “Not at all. I can only take so much though when you’re like not here.”

“Do you wish I was there?” Phil asked, his voice all low and sultry again.

“Fuck yeah.”

There was no reaction to what Dan had said, and then a faint mumbling on the other side of the phone. Clearly, someone else was talking to Phil.

A few moments later, Phil came back on the phone, “God, Dan. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Don’t be sorry. I get it. I’m just here sat in my pants—”

“You’re in your  _ pants _ ?” Phil sounded pained, and that made Dan feel pretty good about himself.

“I am, but unfortunately, you have to go run the country.”

“Oh Dan,” Phil said, his voice. “I’m just a mascot.”

Dan was startled by strangeness of Phil’s reply but before he got a chance to reply, Phil had gone.

  
  



	21. Chapter 21

“Are you wearing that?” Nick asked.

“Wearing what?” Dan looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with it.”

“It literally says sexual fantasies on the sleeve.”

Dan gave Nick a cheeky grin. “Yeah, so?”

“ _ Dan.” _

“What? Are we going somewhere like  _ nice? _ ”

“The Chiltern Firehouse,” Nick said, as he buttoned up his black dress shirt. It fit him well, though all of his clothes fit him well. He went through the time and expense to have them tailored.

“Fucking seriously?” Dan asked, as he tugged his jumper off, and started rifling through his closet again. “You’re paying, you know that, right?”

“Fine, but you better put out.”

Dan shot Nick a look and then settled on the white shirt he wore in ISG vids, and those black trousers that showed off his ankles. 

“You know, I could have had a real date tonight and you’re really making me regret keeping my promise to play pretend boyfriends with you,” Dan said.

“A real date? With who?”

Dan just looked at Nick and raised an eyebrow. 

Nick’s eyes widened. “Oh… oh, shit. Wait. You turned down a date with the prince? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with  _ me _ ? Well, excuse my ass for trying to be a good friend.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate it, but you’re an idiot.”

Dan finished buttoning up his shirt. “I just didn’t want to be the kind of friend who bails just to get laid.”

“Wow,” Nick said. “And we’re still not that past that, I see.”

Dan sighed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh but you did, and you’re right. I’m sorry, you know, for how I acted when I first started dating Emily.”

It had sucked. Nick and Dan had gotten really close, closer than Dan had ever gotten to a friend before, and then Nick had started dating Emily and suddenly she had occupied all of Nick’s time and it had not felt great… it still didn’t feel great to think about. Maybe Dan had said that to be a little passive aggressive, even subconsciously. 

“It’s fine,” Dan said.

Nick put a hand on Dan’s upper arm. “It’s not. It wasn’t.” 

It was the first time Nick had ever acknowledged what had happened back then, acknowledged that he’d known he was being an ass and that Dan had gotten his feelings pretty hurt.

“Besides,” Nick said, dropping his hand away. “We see how that ended.”

“Nick—”

“Thank you,” he said. “For sacrificing a chance to get dicked down by the prince for me,”

Dan’s stomach flipped at the phrase ‘dicked down by the prince’ and it made him stutter out his reply, “And I really did need to get laid. It’s been forever.”

Nick put his hands up. “Don’t look at me.”

“Oh, come on Nick, this sexual tension between us will eventually break some day and you’ll throw me against the wall and take me right there… I mean, if Wattpad is anything to go by.” Dan laughed. “Come on, mate. If we don’t go now, we’re gonna miss the train.”

Nick blinked. He looked a little confused, like maybe his mind was somewhere else. “I called us a car.”

“Really? I guess you do know how to show a guy a good time.” Dan nudged Nick as he passed by to get to his sock drawer.

“Uber is gay foreplay now?”

Dan shook his head. “You really need to learn about your best mate’s culture.”

“That’s not fair. I try. I got tied up in a gay club for you.”

“Yeah, sure… for  _ me. _ ”

Nick rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Just put your damn socks on.”

The Chiltern Firehouse was beautifully decorated, obviously expensive, and the kind of place that Dan would never go on his own even if he could afford it (and he could). It wasn’t even the sort of place he’d take dates. He might have had money, but he never wanted to give people the wrong idea about how he spent it. Dan was acutely aware that, though he had money now, the well that supplied it could easily, almost instantly, run dry. 

They were greeted at the entrance by the hostess with the kind of gracious hospitality he’d never encountered until he started hanging out with Nick. It was a strange experience being with him sometimes. In his world, everyone was extra-accommodating and extra-nice. It made Dan wonder how much more pronounced this would be around Phil, if they were able to go out on a date. In a way, Dan was glad he’d had this practice with Nick. If he was going to be spending more time with Phil—and God, did Dan hope he was—Dan was glad he had some experience with being treated both special because of who he was around and also less special by comparison. But it was probably silly to even think about that. There was an enormous difference between Phil wanting to work with him, and sometimes kiss him in secret, than Phil wanting to eat dinner with him or bring him into any other aspect of his life. Dan couldn’t let himself expect more than what they had. The work and the stolen kisses.

But this time, the woman’s focus seemed to be more on Dan than it did on Nick. She was directing most of her words in his direction. Dan was confused until he realized she must have recognized him from the viral clip of him and the prince. He could tell she wanted to say something, but he was sure her training at a place like this had taught her not to.

Sat in a secluded booth, Joe was cozied up beside his girlfriend, whose face was, of course, familiar to Dan, but distinctly out of place to Dan, who was so accustomed to seeing her in medieval-style garb, surrounded by drifts of snow or the imposing walls of stone castles.

“Hey, how are you?” Joe stood, slipping out of the booth to pull his brother into one of those man hugs, then turned his attention to Dan, reaching out to shake his hand.  “Oh, hey, Dan, I didn’t expect to see—” His attention snapped back to Nick. “Where’s your girlfriend, Nick?”

“We broke up.”

Joe looked apologetic. “Oh God man, I’m—”

“It’s cool,” Nick replied. “I thought I told you. I must have spaced it.”

“Instead you’re stuck with me. A totally terrible substitute,” Dan said.

“I’m being rude.” Joe smiled. “Dan, this is my girlfriend, Sophie. Sophie, this is Nick’s—”

“Totally terrible substitute?” She smiled, putting out her hand. 

Dan took her hand. “Totally terrible substitute  _ and  _ best friend.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” she said. 

“You too.”

“Come on, guys,” Nick said. “Let’s sit and eat. I’m fucking starved.”

 

They were sat at the table, Joe next to Sophie and Nick next to Dan, and though it took a moment for Dan to get over sitting across the dinner table from  _ actual  _ Sansa-fucking-Stark, he did eventually.

Maybe it was a totally dickish thing to say, but somehow in his life he’d ended up meeting a lot of ‘special’ people—celebrities, the rich, the  _ royal _ —and, eventually, after awhile, the reality that people were just people began to sink in. Even those people he’d met who weren’t like Nick or Phil, those people who were assholes. They could pretend to be more than people but they weren’t. It was just an act they put on for either themselves or other people. In any case, that’s what it was—an act.

The waiter came by and they ordered drinks and a few starters to share between them.

“I’ve seen some of your videos, you know,” Sophie said.

Dan’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah!” She laughed. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. A lot of people have seen your videos.”

“There’s one video everyone’s seen,” Joe said.

Dan just kind of froze and Nick shot him a look.

“What?” Joe shrugged. “Is that like a sensitive—I didn’t know.”

“It’s not,” Dan said. “People are just making a bigger deal out of it than it is. We were just trying to help out some freaked out teenagers.”

“Still, you guys seemed to have some like serious chemistry, rapport, I mean,” Joe said. “I saw the clip. You work well together.”

“Yeah.” Nick laid his arm out behind Dan on the back of the booth, like he was just getting comfortable. “They work together sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

Nick knew it was more than working. Dan had told him about the first kiss though he’d neglected to tell him about what had happened after the video had been taken. That they had been so buzzed on what Joe had probably rightfully called chemistry that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other—or their mouths. 

“Well,” Sophie said. “I thought it was a nice thing the two of you did.”

“Thanks.” Dan gave her an awkward smile mostly just because he was an awkward guy.

They ordered their actual dinners and made casual small talk—a lot of which was about their careers, so Dan didn’t have too much to add, though they made an effort to keep him involved. Especially Nick who seemed to deflect almost every question about his work and bring it back to just every day life stuff that Dan could relate to, which he appreciated. 

“Joe snores,” Sophie added casually to something Nick had said about how noisy the street near Dan’s flat was. Well, he’s called it  _ their  _ flat and Joe had opened his mouth like he was going to say something, Sophie had spoken before he’d gotten the chance.

“I don’t snore,” Joe said. 

“You do. You snore and I’ve gotten used to it, but only because I’ve learned to fall asleep before you.”

Nick took a sip of his drink. “I’m glad Dan doesn’t snore. I never could sleep through Joe’s freight train noises on the tour bus.”

Sophie laughed casually. Joe didn’t. His face stayed flat, though focused on his brother before dropping down to what remained of their appetizer. It seemed a little strange but Sophie rather seamlessly changed the conversation again and soon enough, they were all talking again. Still, it seemed Joe was talking less, his focus not entirely on dinner 

Eventually, the waiter brought them their dinners. Dan’s chicken was crisp and savory and delicious and probably worth all the money that he was making Nick pay for it. 

“So, Dan?” Sophie asked. “What’s it like working with Prince Philip?”

Dan felt Nick’s leg press again, a grounding presence, like Nick was worried the question made Dan nervous. It did, in a way, but that was alright. He was just always afraid that it would be obvious how he felt about the prince if he talked about him too much.

“He’s really nice. it’s cliche to say he’s down-to-earth, but he actually is given the circumstances. I mean he’s strange, but in the absolute best kind of way.”  _ Am I gushing too much? I might be gushing too much.  _ Dan cleared his throat. “I’m glad we met. He really cares about doing good and it’s an opportunity for me to do good too.”

“Besides,” Nick said. “It’s pretty cool that I now get to say I live with someone who’s friends with the prince.”

Dan tensed at the words ‘friends with the prince’. He guessed it was technically true and not necessarily a huge secret or a secret at all, but it still felt a little weird to hear it being expressed out loud to people he really didn’t know very well. 

‘Friends with the prince’ is not what Joe decided to focus on however.

“You’re living together?” Joe asked. “Since when?”

Nick shrugged. “Dunno. Last month or so.”

“Uh huh.” Joe paused. “So, when are you coming back?”

“Back where?”

“America, Nick. Home.”

Nick straightened up, pulling his arm back from where it was still resting behind Dan. “I’m not.”

“You’re not? What about your career?”

Nick laughed, but it wasn’t really the fun kind of good Nick laugh. It was one that made Dan feel a little anxious. “This is London, Joe. Not… well, I don’t know, wherever it is you think that people can’t work.”

“Okay, Nick. Damn. I just didn’t realize.”

An awkward silence fell over the table after that and Dan tried to throw in some conversation about the new Star Wars movie coming out to try and distract.

“I’m excited to see it,” Sophie said. “Not sure when I’ll get a chance though. Always feel like I never get to the movies as much as I’d like.”

“We’re going to the premiere here,” Nick said. 

“We?” Joe asked.

“Dan got invited. I’m his plus one,” Nick said. Dan knew Nick had gotten invited to the American premier but he’d opted to go with Dan to this one.

Joe wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin and laid it on the table, then he cleared his throat and stood up.

“Honey, are you okay?” Sophie asked, sounding uncertain.

“Yes,” he said, “Just need to use the restroom. Nick, you do too, don’t you?”

He was taking a bite of his food, his fork poised between his mouth and the plate. “What? Huh? No.”

“Yes. You do.” Joe shot a look down at Nick that was enough to make Dan flinch.

Nick let out a sigh and stood up from the table, then walked away towards the toilets with his brother.

Sophie leaned in. “I’m sorry Joe’s acting weird tonight. I’m not sure what’s up with him.”

Dan glanced over his shoulder in the direction they’d walked then looked back at Sophie. “Nick’s being strange too.”

“Maybe it’s the full moon.” She laughed.

While Nick and Joe were gone, Dan was able to carry on a pretty easy conversation with Sophie, but that was all shot to hell when the brothers returned to the table. They both plonked down in their seats and silently tucked into their food, carrying an almost visible strain with them. 

Sophie gave Dan a look and he gave her one back. It was pretty damn clear their respective Jonas’s had had some sort of argument.

When the waiter came by to ask if they were interested in dessert, the offer was shut down immediately and simultaneously by Nick and Joe. The bill came shortly after and Joe grabbed it before Nick could, leaving him to mumble something incoherently under his breath. 

Even before the waiter had come back with Joe’s card, Nick was standing up. “It was good to see you again, Sophie,” he said.

“You too,” she said.

Nick totally ignored his brother. “Come on, Dan.”

Bewildered, Dan stood from his seat. “It was good to meet you, Sophie.”

“You too, Dan,” she replied. He was glad he could see that she was as confused as he was about whatever had just happened. 

“And, Dan, I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Joe said.

“Yes,” Dan said. “I’m sure.”

Nick was already several paces away. Dan had to jog a bit to catch back up to him. 

“Mate, what the hell was that?” Dan hissed, as they neared the front door of the restaurant.

“Nothing. Joe’s just a fucking—” Nick let out a breath. “Can we just go home?”

“Yeah, but…” Dan put a hand on Nick’s arm and he practically jumped away. “Nick?”

“Sorry. Fuck.” He pushed the door open and stepped outside in the cold air. “Sorry. I think my blood sugar is just…”

Dan looked back at the restaurant entrance. “You want to go back and tell your brother th—”

“No.  _ No.  _ I just want to go home. I want to go home and I want to go to bed.”

Dan let out a breath. Nick looked flustered, his brow was furrowed and his cheeks were nearly a hot pink.

“Yeah, come on… it’s fine. Let’s just get back.” Dan took a risk and put a hand on Nick’s arm again. This time he didn’t flinch away, and let Dan lead him forward. They took a few steps forward. There was a flash that got Dan’s attention and then just a video camera aimed directly at their faces. 

“How was your date, boys?” The man behind the camera asked.

Nick ignored them, and Dan ignored them too because that’s what you were supposed to do. They just kept walking.

“It looked like a fun double date,” the man said, following them. “Nick, what do you think about your brother’s girlfriend?”

Neither one of them answered, but the man still followed. Dan’s chest started to grow tight, his anxiety peaking. He hated this. It was one thing to be approached by excited fans who wanted a picture and just to talk for a moment. This was something insidious, dehumanizing. Legal paid harassment cloaking itself in the costume of free press. 

“Why don’t you tell us about the prince, then, Dan?” the man kept on. “We were all too impressed by the video. What made you and Prince Philip decide to do it? Whose idea was it?”

_ Shut up. Shut up. _ Dan wanted to say it to the man, but instead he just kept saying it to himself. Unfortunately, it didn’t work to actually shut himself up.

“We’re just trying to go home, alright?” Dan immediately regretted engaging the pap at all.

“Home together? Are the two of you living together?”

_ Fuck.  _ It wasn’t some huge secret, but still  _ fuck. _

This time Dan managed not to respond, but he could feel Nick tensing beside him, drawing in even closer. They were hurrying up, walking faster, Dan had the idea to get curbside and hail a taxi. Normally, they’d just take the underground, but they needed to do something to get away from this guy. 

Dan pushed his way to the edge of the pavement and waved his hand at the first passing taxi. Thankfully, it slowed to make its way over in traffic.

Dan saw the pap turn his head toward the approaching taxi and realize they were about to escape. Dan wasn’t even sure Nick had noticed him hailing the car though.

“At least tell us,” he said, “who tops and who bottoms?”

“Shut the  _ fuck  _ up!” Nick shouted, and Dan’s stomach plummeted. He’d done just exactly what they both knew he shouldn’t have done.

“Nick.”  _ Shit.  _

“No. Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck  _ off.  _ You motherfuck—“

“Get in the car, Nick,” Dan hissed and practically shoved him into the back seat. 

The pap was still pushing forward, still spitting out nasty questions, trying to provoke Nick even more, shoving the camera in Dan’s face.

“Get that goddamn camera out of my face,” Dan snapped and, in a moment of stupidity and instinct, shoved the camera away from him. Hard. He knocked it from the pap’s hand and it shattered on the pavement.

The pap started screaming obscenities at Dan and telling him exactly where he was going to shove the broken bits of his camera. All Dan could think to do was hurl himself into the backseat of the taxi with Nick as quickly as possible. 

Dan landed partially on Nick’s lap as he shouted for the driver to move the car and he grappled to slam the door shut. 

There were a few moments of silence, of catching breath, before Nick said quietly, “Well, we really fucked up.”

Yeah. There wasn’t much denying that at all. Just after one video clip had gotten out. He was going to be met with a much less flattering one.

 

Finally, they’d gotten home and crawled into bed, but Dan still couldn’t sleep. His nerves were shot from everything that had happened and he was just lying there wide awake, wishing he’d told Nick he’d take a raincheck on family dinner and had spent the evening with Phil.

Dan: i’m an idiot

It didn’t take long for the reply to come and that made Dan infinitely happy. He smiled and snuggled deeper into the bed, letting himself feel the warmth spreading through him. 

Phil: You’re not but why?

Dan: I just had one giant disaster of evening when I could have spent it with you.

Phil: I agree. Not spending the evening with me when you could have does make you an idiot ;) but seriously, what happened? Are you okay?

Dan: Meh, yeah. I got to have dinner with Sansa Stark so at least there was that lol

Phil: ??? Explain pls.

Dan: sophie turner is joe’s gf

Phil: Oh. Omg. Did you like fan-out too hard and embarrass yourself because that’s what I would do.

Dan: No. Joe and Nick got into some weird inexplicable mid-dinner bro fight and it was awkward as hell and then we got stalked by some pap asshole on the way out and Nick might have yelled at him and I might have broken his camera.

Phil: Might?

Dan: yes, allegedly. according to unnamed sources. so when the footage comes out if you have to like cut public ties with me i’ll get it

Dan half-meant it as joke, but he was worried that Phil might take it seriously. Whenever it came out, it would be some real weird shit that would definitely fuel the dick rumors—and in a way that went far beyond his own audience. 

Phil: At least, it might get some attention off that other clip. My hair looked terrible that day.

Dan: blasphemy! it did not. you had a perfect quiff that day. well, until, i messed it up later

Phil: You could have messed it up again, but you had to go eat dinner with a Sansa Stark, cause a rift between the Jonas Brothers and then physically assault a member of the press 

Dan: hey, i only did like sixty-five percent of what you’re accusing me of

Phil: And now i have at least a week of perfect quiffness to endure before you can muss it up again :((

Dan: i hate these words that you are saying. and time. and distance. physics is a bitch and i’m unsubscribing from it.

Phil: I have an idea though.

Dan: yeah, what’s that?

Phil: It’s not nearly as good as defying the scientific principles of the universe but close.

Dan: ???

Phil: Skype !!! 

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

The next day, Nick seemed kind of off, so Dan mostly left him alone. He knew to give him his space just the way Nick knew to give Dan his space when he needed it. Whatever fight Nick had had with his brother was clearly still weighing on Nick’s mind and Dan understood that. How easy it was to obsess over something someone in your family has said, how almost addictive it could be to pick that scab until it became a scar. 

That morning, Dan checked online to see if the pap had posted that video. He hadn’t. Maybe he’d somehow wrecked the footage by wrecking the camera or maybe the guy had just grown a conscience about it, though that seemed unlikely. Maybe it would get posted later. Regardless, there was nothing Dan could do besides wait and see. He hated waiting and seeing.

So he just poured himself a bowl of cereal and black coffee and walked with it over to his desk. He had some planning to do for a dinof video, as he was trying to post them more frequently. He was always trying to post them more frequently, but he decided to put some more effort into it. If anything, he could put out an Internet Support Group. Some would complain about it, but most would still watch it and like it and he could feel more comfortable when the bills came at the end of the month. 

He was in the middle of reading through some e-mails when he saw his phone screen light up.

_ Phil _

Dan smiled. There was nothing that made him smile like seeing that simple word on his phone screen.

Phil: Hi

Dan: hey :) how’s the north?

Phil: Good, except I always feel like I start picking up the accent whenever I’m here.

That made Dan’s heart flutter—something about the thought of the posh accented Prince Philip slipping into that casual northern way of speaking.

Dan: it’s pretty easy to pick up on. ever since i went to uni there, i swear it still sometimes comes out in my voice.

Phil: I think I’d like to hear that ;)

Dan: i guess we’ll have to speak northern to each other sometime then ;)

Phil: Anytime

Phil: Well, not anytime. I have a ribbon-cutting type thing to get to for a new hospital wing, but I’m free this afternoon. Are you?

He was, but if he hadn’t been, he’d make time. He’d learned from the catastrophe of the previous evening that hiding away with Phil turned out better than well  _ not  _ hiding away with Phil. Dan planned to start choosing the former a lot more often. 

Dan: Yep :) let me know when you’re ready 

Phil: Oh, I will. 

Dan tried to keep working after that but he found he was too nervous for later and he couldn’t keep his focus so he just kind of messed around on the internet, pretending to be productive and occasionally checking to see if the paparazzi footage had come out. It still hadn’t and something about that was almost making him more nervous. Waiting was almost more stressful than dealing with whatever the fallout would be.

Eventually, his phone buzzed and he saw a message from Phil.

Phil: I can be ready in fifteen, if you are.

A nervous thrill ran Dan’s spine and his fingers shook a little as he typed his reply.

Dan: Definitely. I’ll send you my Skype info.

Dan sent that, so Phil could call him and then walked from his desk up to his room. He didn’t see Nick on the way to tell him what he was up, so he figured Nick must’ve gone out without telling him. He could do that, of course, but it was still kind of weird because normally Nick would say something to him before he left.

He sat on his bed and opened his laptop, then signed into Skype. His heart was pounding as he sat there, nibbling on his thumb nail, waiting for the call from Phil. He took a moment to check himself out in the webcam, to tussle his curls and make sure he didn’t have any food in his teeth. For a moment, he considered changing out of his space cat shirt into something a bit edgier, a bit sexier, but before he could, the call from Phil was coming through.

BuffyBoy130

A big grin broke out onto Dan’s face. Phil could make him so instantly giddy that it was unfair. 

Dan drew in a deep breath to steady his nerves and accepted the call.

Phil’s face appeared on screen. His grey jumper brought out the blue in his eyes and his normally quiffed hair had fallen a little down his forehead, not the fringe of his uni years, but a nice soft, loose wave. It was gorgeous and casual and Dan could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. 

“Dan, can you hear me?” Phil said, doing his best northern accent.

Dan nodded and replied in a northern accent of his own. “Yep. Can you hear me?”

Phil smiled that bright perfect smile that lit up his whole face. “Yeah. It’s so good to hear you… and see you.”

“It is.”  _ If only I could touch you.  _ “How’s the North?”

“Good. Cold. It’s always nice to see family, especially, you know, my dad’s side.”

“Is that weird for you?” Dan asked. “God, sorry. That was rude.”

“No, not rude. And yeah, sort of. I feel like I fit in with them better. As a kid, my cousin once asked to trade places with me and I was like ‘Sure’! My dad had to explain to me that’s not how that works.”

“It’s not the same, but going back to see family is a weird experience no matter who you are. I love my family but I try to do it as rarely as possible because I don’t particularly like the me I become around them, you know?”

Phil gave him a small smile. “I think so, but I don’t particularly like the me I am around anyone.”

“Well, I do.”

A blush spread across Phil’s face and he looked down. “I’m glad.” He looked back up. “So, uh, what were you up to today?”

“Nothing. I mean had stuff I  _ could  _ do, but nothing I had to do, and therein lies the domain of the habitual procrastinator,” Dan said.

“Yeah, I saw that video.”

“Uh, really.” Dan let out a nervous laugh. “That the only one?” His mind supplied a cascade of cringeworthy moments that Phil could have seen. The number of times he’s shrieked and fallen off chairs alone…

“I hope it’s alright… I watched a few of them on my trip up here. Was that weird? I’m sorry if it was weird.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine. I’m just dying of embarrassment a little.” Dan sighed. “A lot.”

“Why would you be embarrassed? I only got to see a few, but I really liked what I saw.”

The compliment warmed Dan. “Which ones did you watch?”

“Well, the procrastination one. The one about your piano teacher. The one where you take quizzes about yourself.”

Dan snorted. “Oh, god. Not that one!”

“That one was… something else.”

“Did you happen to pass the would you date dan quiz?”

Phil laughed. “I actually didn’t know your birthday, which wasn’t an option, so I guess not.”

“Are you glad our first date didn’t turn out like me just asking you a series of trivia questions about myself?”

“Our first date?”

Dan’s stomach dropped. “Not that we… I just meant—”

“I think you’re technically right, Dan. I just hoped I’d take you somewhere like a nice dinner and not a prison for our first date.”

“Well, you didn’t.” Dan gave Phil a cheeky grin. “And now you have to live with it.”

“I do and while I’m at it, I should make my own more accurate quiz about what a date with Dan is like.”

“Yes, please contribute to my eternal humiliation.” Dan chuckled. “But of all my videos, at least you watched some of the less traumatizing ones. Besides that godforsaken quiz video.”

Phil rubbed at the back of his neck and looked down towards his lap. “Oh, I, um, I also watched your diss track.”

Dan felt mortified all over again. _Oh God._ This was not good. Like not at all. “Fuck. _Fuck._ You’re… you’re in that one.”

“Yeah, I, uh, noticed.”

Dan cringed. He could hear the dumb lyrics in his head.  _ Your celebrity crush is J.Law and it’s also Prince P. What the fuck even is your sexuality?  _

“I’m so sorry,” Dan said. God. He’d fucked this up. He’d already fucked it up so hard, and it had barely gotten started. He should’ve said something earlier, brought it up. The whole stupid fucking crush thing, but how the hell did you ever bring that up?

“Don’t be. It was kind of a… bop.”

_ What?  _ Phil seemed normal, and he shouldn’t seem normal, but he did and he was grinning that goofy grin and maybe Dan should chill because Phli had known about the diss track since before this Skype conversation had even gotten started. 

“It once beat Kanye on the charts,” Dan said a little deliriously.  _ Not the fucking time, Dan. _

Phil snorted. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I took it down though. I never meant to sell it. Someone illegally uploaded it.”

“Still, knocking Kanye down the charts. That’s like a feat or something.”

Dan laughed, but it was an awkward-sounding thing he could tell. He was blushing and he knew it showed even through the low quality camera. “Does this seriously not bother you? I mean, yeah, I promise I’m not like a stalker or something. It was mostly kind of a running joke, not that, you know, being attracted to you was a joke. It wasn’t. I mean, you’ve seen yourself. I made awkward comments about Nick too, and we ended up best friends and so he can vouch for—”

“It’s okay, Dan. Really.”

Dan felt a strange fondness for Phil he wasn’t even sure how to sort out. He really didn’t want his dumb former celebrity crush to get in the way of any of this, and, truth be told, he was glad it was already out in the open, so they could deal with it now. “Are you sure it doesn’t bother you? Because there’s, uh, a little more where that came from… and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like I’m just living out some weird fantasy because it’s really, really not like that.”

Phil’s expression grew serious. “Maybe it should bother me, Dan, but it doesn’t. It honestly makes me feel pretty good, actually. You liked me before I was even next in line to the throne.” Phil let out a breath. “I always run the risk that someone is just using me for my position, regardless, and this is weird, but you saying that honestly made me feel better. Like you actually like  _ me.  _ Not my title. At least not my future title.”

“I like you, Phil. Just you. I’ve liked you since I found one of your leaked uni videos… sorry I probably shouldn’t have admitted I watched one of those. I know we weren’t technically supposed to.”

“It’s okay.” A big grin spread across Phil’s face. “Can you keep a secret?

Dan nodded. “Uh, yeah…”

“I leaked the videos.”

Dan’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“I mean, some people have guessed it, but yeah, I did. I didn’t like that I wasn’t allowed to post them like my friends, so I just made an anonymous account and uploaded them anyway. I’d started to regret it recently, but you’re making me second guess that. You know, if that’s the reason you liked me.”

“I would have liked you anyway, but they were really, really good, Phil. They were so unusual and smart and creative. Those videos were kind of part of the reason I started YouTube actually.”

“Really?”

Dan nodded. “Crazy, huh?”

“A little… but…“—Phil’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to the screen—“what is on your shirt, by the way?”

“Oh, uh, it’s…" —he moved his laptop down so Phil could get a fuller picture of the cat shirt—“They’re astronaut cats. I got it at the Kennedy Space Center. Unironically the coolest thing I own.”

Phil drew in a sharp breath, almost like he was in pain.

“You okay?” Dan asked.

“You’re… you’re not wearing any trousers.”

“Oh God, sorry!” Dan felt another wave of mortification. “I totally didn’t mean to like flash you. Not that I could have flashed you flashed you. I’m wearing pants.”

“Don’t apologize.” Phil rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“You’re just… you’re very… I find you very attractive, Dan. ” Phil’s voice got deep and low on those last words.

Dan shivered, feeling his mouth go a little dry. “Th-thank you. I mean, I’m into you too.”

“You are?”

“You know that. I wrote a song about it.” Dan gave Phil a cheeky smile as he pushed his curls back. 

Phil shifted, wobbling his camera on his laptop. Then, he bit his lip and looked away from the screen. 

“Phil,” Dan asked cautiously. “Are you, are you maybe a little turned on?”

“I’m… God, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“That’s all it takes to get you going? A little upper thigh action.” Dan could not believe he was pushing this kid of flirting right now, but he was missing Phil and, on top of that, Phil had the audacity to be on the other side of the screen looking like  _ that _ . Looking at  _ him _ like that.

Phil pouted. “It was more than a little.”

Dan was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t help but be bolstered by the way Phil was talking right now. Phil was actually turned on by him. Dan adjusted in the bed, scooting back more against the pillow and moving the laptop down his legs to show off more of his torso. He tossed his hand through his curls.

“Now you’re doing it on purpose,” Phil said.

“Should I stop?” Dan bit his lip and pushed the laptop down a little farther. 

Phil shut his eyes and nodded. “We can’t do this.”

Dan tilted his head. “Right now?”

“I can’t  _ ever  _ do this.”

A sick feeling settled in Dan’s stomach. “This?  _ Us _ ?” 

Phil shook his head. “No. I mean, camera stuff. If someone recorded footage of anything like that… It’s against the rules, Dan. I have a lot of rules I have to follow. It’s a pain in the ass and I’m sorry.”

That made sense. It wouldn’t be great if a tape of the prince masturbating started circulating. 

“Hypothetical question,” Dan said.

“Okay…”

“What if you just watched?”

“ _ Dan.” _

_ “ _ I said hypothetical question.”

Phil gave him a fond look before rolling his eyes. “Hypothetically, I think… yeah, that would be okay. I mean it might kill me, but there aren’t specifically rules against it.”

Dan let out a shaky breath, and bit the knuckle of his thumb. “Would you want me to? Not necessarily right now, I mean. I’m just thinking aloud.”

“ _ Fuck…  _ Shit, I shouldn’t have even said that.”

“What?” Dan laughed. “Fuck?”

“Yeah… not on camera.”

The fact that Dan had Phil riled up enough to curse when he normally didn’t was enough to make Dan harden a little in his pants. This was too much too fast, but Dan was king of the one night stand and maybe he just had too much sense memory to go about this properly or maybe Phil was just that irresistible. 

“Jesus. I’m sorry I’m coming on so strong. It’s just that you’re  _ you, _ ” Dan said.

“I just wish I was actually there.”

Dan let out a soft whimper he should probably feel more embarrassed about. “What would you do if you were here?”

“ _ Dan…” _

“Shit, right. Sorry.”

Phil’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, then he said, nice and low “What would you want to do?”

“Kiss you. Want that again so badly. I can’t stop thinking about it..”

“It’s okay. We’ll do it again, I promise.” His words sounded so sincere. “What else?”

_ Oh God.  _ Phil really wanted to go there, didn’t he? Was this a good idea? Dan didn’t know, but he didn’t really care. How could he when he was hot all over his skin and aching between his legs. 

“W-want to touch you. Figure out what you like. Where you want my hands… and my mouth.”

Phil’s mouth was dropped open a little, his eyes blown wide. Fuck. He looked good like that.

Dan pushed the laptop down his legs a little more and tilted it to show off his thighs again. Phil let out a dark, unmistakably sexual groan, then threw a hand over his mouth. 

“Oops,” Dan said.

Phil snickered from behind his hands, then his laugh grew bigger which just made Dan laugh, even though he was still pretty damn hard. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this, should we?” Dan relaxed his shoulders. “I mean, if you can’t keep your shit together over there, it’s not going to work.”

“ _ Hey, _ ” Phil said, but he didn’t actually sound bothered. “It’s not my fault that you’re literally every wet dream I’ve ever had.”

Oh, Dan was so goddamn fucked.

He swallowed tightly. “Should you being saying that on camera?”

“No, good call, mate.”

“Yeah.” Dan laughed and adjusted himself. “Except now I have a fucking boner.”

“Honestly,” Phil spoke quietly. “So do I.”

Dan shut his eyes. He was so achingly hard—and everything about this moment was so fucking impossible and so fucking sexy that he was able to push back all the nerves to ask the thing he wanted to ask. “Do you want to see?”

The look Phil gave Dan, he couldn’t only describe it as pained. But maybe he was projecting because Dan was absolutely desperate for Phil, for whatever Phil could give him, as much or as little.

“I can’t,” Phil said, his voice stiff.

Dan felt his insides sink down thick and heavy, the rejection stinging hard. “Oh, okay.” He dropped his gaze down.

“No, Dan… I just want to see it in person… the first time, that’s all.” Phil’s tongue darted out and wet his lips. “Maybe just… if you want… touch yourself, but keep the camera on your face.”

“ _ Phil, _ ” he said, lost for any other words.

Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to tug his shirt up a little, let it bunch around his hips, and then slide his hand under the waistband of his pants? Was he really going to wrap his nervous fingers around his hardening cock and squeeze? Was he really going to shut his eyes, tip his head back and draw in a deep, gasping breath because  _ God, fuck  _ that feels just so damn good? Apparently. Because that was exactly what he was doing.

Dan opened his eyes, his focus going back to the screen. Phil was looking back at him, a hand over his mouth, his brow drawn together like he was looking at something with intense focus. And he was, Dan guessed. He was looking at Dan with that kind of almost blisteringly hot attention. If you had asked Dan earlier that day if eyes, if a gaze, could be truly searing he would have told you you were exaggerating, but he would have been wrong. Dan now knew what it was like to catch fire from a single look—and it didn’t matter that there were hundreds of miles between them. It didn’t matter that the look was filtered through light and pixel and glass. It only mattered that it was Phil looking at Dan like  _ that.  _ He could’ve been a million miles away. It wouldn’t have changed anything.

Slowly, Dan started to slide his hand up and down his cock. The dry friction felt good against hot skin. His thumb felt good sliding over his wet slit, but all Dan really cared about was the way he was being watched. About the way this was a moment shared between them.

He shimmied his pants down around his thighs, being careful to keep the camera on his face like Phil had asked, but he wanted the freedom to move his hand faster, to keep up with the way this touch and that look was making him feel.

Dan’s breaths were coming heavier, the sound of skin sliding against skin filled the room as his front teeth were digging into his bottom lip. It felt so good even though he couldn’t believe it was actually happening, that he was actually touching himself this way while the prince watched. That was… that was… well, it made his stomach flip, made heat rush over him. 

“Oh God,” Dan whined. “This feels so…  _ Phil.” _

The bedroom door opened, and fear struck through Dan like an icy wave. 

“Nick!” Dan shouted, his voice cracking.

“Seriously!” Nick’s voice cracked too. “In our bed?”

Panicking, Dan scrambled to slam his laptop shut and yank his pants back up over his waning erection.  _ Fucking blue balls. _

He was going to  _ kill  _ Nick. Actually fucking strangle him to death. 

“What the  _ hell  _ did you come in here for?” Dan spat.

“I didn’t think you’d be jerking off at three in the fucking afternoon!”

Dan moved off the bed and stood up. “Don’t act like you don’t wank off, Nick.”

“I don’t rub my bare ass on the bed we both have to fucking sleep in.”

“It’s  _ my  _ bed, Nick. We don’t  _ have  _ to do anything. If I want to wank in  _ my  _ bed I can. If I want to bring home a man and fuck him in  _ my  _ bed I can.”

Nick froze, any bit of humor was pulled back. “Right. Yeah.” He blinked. “Yeah, you’re right… you’re right. I’ll, uh, see you later.” He walked out of the bedroom.

Dan hesitated, still trying to process everything that had just happened. Then, he followed Nick out of the bedroom. “Nick, come on. Where are you going?”

Nick stopped, turning around. “Out. Just out for a while.”

That was weird because he’d already been out for a while, but Nick just grabbed his keys and his coat and walked out the front door.

“Nick!” Dan called out after him, but the door just shut, cutting off the sound. 

Letting out a breath, Dan leaned against the wall. He rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck had just happened? How could a day that was going  _ that  _ well, just get totally blown to pieces in a matter of moments?

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

Dan was just stood there, staring at the door Nick had left from. His mind was practically blank, and he was struggling to figure out what had just happened and why. Of course, it was awkward, but they’d been through more awkward things than this (the anal beads incident for one). So, why was Nick so angry? Why had he just left that?

Suddenly, the confusion was edged back, just to be replaced with another emotion.  _ Anger.  _ Dan was angry that Nick had come in and interrupted him when he was sharing a moment like that with Phil. Dan was angry that Nick had seemed angry about it. Had acted like Dan was doing something wrong, like Dan didn’t have the right to do whatever the fuck he wanted in his own bed in his own house.

As he was seething, another thought popped into Dan’s mind.  _ Phil.  _ He’d just slammed the laptop on Phil as Nick walked in, as Nick walked in and, Dan was pretty sure, said “in our bed”. How would that sound to Phil? Fuck. 

Dan turned away from the front door and rushed back up to his bedroom where his iPhone was. His stomach sank when he saw that Phil hadn’t texted him to see what had happened. His fingers were shaking slightly, from fear and from the residual adrenaline of anger, as he typed out a message to Phil.

Dan: oh my god, i’m so so sorry about that.

He pressed send and then let out a breath. Dan’s chest was tight. His whole body was tight. He had no idea what Phil was thinking and he wanted a chance to explain himself. Dan stared down at his phone screen, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He couldn’t help but be reminded of when he’d been waiting for Phil to reply before. He’d waited all day and Dan thought he might drop dead if he was forced to wait for Phil’s reply that long again. And then, a terrible thought hit him. What if Phil never replied to him? It was perfectly within Phil’s power to just disappear from Dan’s life. To decide he wasn’t worth the effort or the time or the possible scandal and just cut off ties. 

Dan felt that thought like a punch to his gut, and he hated how much it already ached to think that he’d never get to talk to Phil again. That they’d never get to joke again, or just talk, or touch. That he’d never get to keep getting to know him in all those special and important ways—physically and mentally—and then Dan’s phone buzzed in his hand.

He jumped, so deep in his thoughts that the small movement startled him. Dan held his breath as he opened the message from Phil.

Phil: no problem. it’s totally fine that you’re seeing other people.

Of all the responses Phil could have sent besides ‘I’m never talking to you again’, this hurt the fucking worst. It  _ stung.  _ Somehow, Dan hadn’t expected it, but, at this moment, he felt stupid for not expecting it. 

Stupid for thinking _ Prince Philip _ could have possibly wanted more from him than sex. Dan was a man—and so was Phil. What did Dan expect? For Phil to parade him around on his arm? To publicly be his boyfriend? The gay future king? 

_ Future. _ There had never been any future for them had there?

Dan felt mad. He felt stupid. He felt mad  _ and  _ stupid, and he wanted to say  _ I’m not seeing other people, just you. I don’t want to see other people. I only want you.  _ He had already turned down someone who’d wanted to be with him because he’d had feelings for the prince and that was even before they’d kissed, but it didn’t matter. Because Dan might have wanted to say those things. Might have wanted to confess just how much he’d started to let himself feel, but then he just read the words Phil sent again.

Phil: no problem. it’s totally fine that you’re seeing other people.

Dan had already been teetering on the edge from how angry he was at Nick and this, those words, just had him hurtling off it at a hundred miles an hour directly towards the rocks below.

Dan: yeah, you too. 

That was what he sent Phil. A lie he wanted to be true. He wanted it to be true that all he wanted from Phil was physical because it seemed that’s all Phil wanted from him. He maybe even wanted to be okay with letting Phil go, just keeping his pride and saying ‘I won’t be used and cast aside’, making his position of what he wanted with Phil perfectly clear. But he wasn’t okay with that.

The thought of being without Phil at all was worse than the thought of being used by him.

Logically, Dan knew that was fucked up. Practically, he didn’t care. 

When Dan’s phone buzzed again, his stomach roiled. It was different than the giddy feeling that normally accompanied messages from Phil, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Phil: i’m disappointed that we were interrupted though

Dan was too honestly. It had felt good. Phil was hot and he’d been looking at Dan like Dan was something worth looking at. Even if it had only been about his body, Dan would still take the compliment. If Dan was in the business of anything, it was taking what he could get. 

Dan: me too. i was having a good time ;)

He typed out the words an the winky face, but the flirting felt forced. Could Phil feel that Dan was feeling off? Probably not. How could he?

Phil: I could tell. You look gorgeous like that.

Dan hated the heat that flushed through him at those words. That he could be mad and disappointed and embarrassed and frustrated and  _ horny  _ at the same time.

Dan: you weren’t so bad yourself. 

Still, the words felt fake, performed in a way that nothing with Phil ever had. It felt like all the countless tinder and grindr hookups he’d had over the years. Like slipping into the persona he’d built to protect himself during those interactions. Dan didn’t want to wear it around Phil, but he wasn’t sure there was anything else he could do. 

Phil: Thanks ;)

Dan just stared down at his phone, stomach still sinking. It felt like it would always be sinking, like he’d stepped into a bottomless pit full of quicksand. 

He locked his phone and set it aside. He didn’t want to look at it right now. Didn’t want to talk to Phil or to anyone. Dan walked off to the gaming room and shut the door. Well, he slammed it. He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t realized the anger that had built up inside him until the loud snap of the door against the doorframe was echoing through his flat.

Dan shut his eyes, let out a breath and flopped down in his gaming chair. He turned on his Switch, but on his VR headset and just tried to disappear into the virtual world of Skyrim. Tried to pretend he wasn’t just sitting in his London flat but was in a far-off landscape full of magic and missions that made sense. 

He’d always loved video games because they could take him away from real life. He could immerse himself in them and, not only that, he was good at games in a way he never felt he was good at actual life. He needed that right now. To feel good at something instead of like a complete fucking idiot that was fucking up everything in his  _ fucking _ —

With a groan, Dan tore the VR headset off his head and chucked it on the computer desk. This wasn’t working. This wasn’t making him feel any better. 

Nick was pissed at him. Phil didn’t take this thing between them as seriously as Dan did  (or seriously at all) and playing a video game wasn’t going to change a fucking thing about either of those things. 

Dan got up from the desk and walked out of the room, back to where he’d left his phone. There were no more messages or missed calls from Phil or from Nick. Nick hadn’t been gone all that long, but Dan didn’t like how they’d left things. Didn’t like that Nick had just stormed out after Dan kind of yelled at him. He couldn’t handle fucking things up with Nick. He needed Nick. Needed his best friend.

Dan crammed his pride down as far as he could manage and called Nick. It rang and rang but he didn’t answer. He hung up when he heard Nick’s voice telling him to leave a message.

Instead, Dan decided to send Nick a text.

Dan: i’m sorry. i didn’t mean what i said. i was embarrassed and panicked. you know how awkward i am. 

Dan sent the message and then waited for a reply. He just stared down at the messages and saw the “read” tag appear beneath the text, but the three dots to say Nick was replying never appeared.

He didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t going to pester Nick. Clearly, he needed time to himself but that didn’t stop it from hurting. A lot. So fucking much. 

Dan wandered, a little dazed, into the lounge and sat down in front of the telly. He switched it on and just let the news play, though he wasn’t really paying that much attention to it. Eventually, his eyes started to glaze over and he drifted to sleep. 

 

Dan woke to hearing the door shut. He startled up, rubbing at his eyes and trying to make them focus as he scanned the room for Nick. There were footsteps on the stairs and then his head popped up from behind the railing.

“You’re back.” Dan yawned.

“Yeah.” Nick rubbed at the back of his neck, not looking Dan in the eye. “Sorry, I didn’t text you back.”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home.”

Nick gave Dan a small smile. “Can I sit down? I need to talk to you.”

Dan nodded, blinking. “Of course,” he said, though  _ I need to talk to you  _ made him feel a bit queasy.

Nick made his way over and sat down beside Dan on the sofa. Nick didn’t say anything, long enough that it made Dan uncomfortable.

“You alright?” Dan finally asked, when Nick didn’t break his silence.

“Yeah.” Nick shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Because I really am sorry I yelled at you. I was a jackass.”

“No you weren’t.” Nick shook his head again. “It’s your bedroom and I shouldn’t have just barged in like that.”

“We’ve been sharing it though. I shouldn’t have just been doing that in the middle of the day, without like at least putting a sock on the door or something.” 

Nick let out a small laugh, but something about it didn’t seem right, and the laugh faded quickly. He turned in towards Dan, his expression serious. “Look, Dan. I don’t know how to tell you this.”

“You can tell me anything,” Dan said, easily. Because they were tell each other anything friends, weren’t they?

Dan was met with silence with that still-strange look from Nick piercing through him, and Dan couldn’t help but just look back, like maybe he could find an answer there. Nick let out a shallow breath, his fingers curling in on his kneecaps. 

“I have to go back to New York,” Nick said.  _ Blurted,  _ more like. 

Dan blinked, the strange trance of Nick’s gaze broken. “When? For how long?”

“After the Star Wars premiere… Permanently.”

“ _ What?”  _ Dan stood up from the sofa in shock. “But you were just getting a visa? To stay? I don’t understand…”

Nick rubbed his face with his hands. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You’re seriously leaving? Over walking in on me having an afternoon wank?”

“No. God, Dan. This isn’t about you.” Nick stood up too. “Not every goddamn thing is about you.”

Dan pressed his lips together. He had no idea what to say to that. 

“I’m sorry, Dan.”

“What’s it about then?” Dan asked. “Why are you leaving? I thought you were happy. You seemed happy.”

Nick let out a breath. “That’s the problem.”

Dan shook his head. “Mate, I really don’t get it.”

“I don’t really get it either. I just know I can’t stay here. I can’t keeping running.”

“Running? What are you running from?”

Nick gave him that look again. That weird, piercing, helpless, scared, God-knows-what look. His forehead was scrunched together and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. Nick blinked, breaking the stare, but then a tear tracked out of his eye and rolled down his cheek. His bottom lip was quivering as another tear streaked out of his eye.

Dan felt his heart break. He hadn’t seen Nick cry since the week Emily had left him, and Dan hated seeing him like this. Hated seeing him hurting. The only thing Dan could think to do to even begin to try and fix it was rush forward and wrap his arms around Nick and hold on.

Nick’s arms stayed at his side for a moment, then he felt something in Nick go slack and he leaned forward onto Dan, his face the perfect height to be buried in Dan’s shoulder as his hands gripped and tugged onto Dan’s shirt.

Dan wasn’t a hundred percent sure what Nick mumbled against him, but he was pretty sure it was “I’m sorry.” 

  
  



	24. Chapter 24

Nick slept on the sofa that night. Dan had told him not to be silly and to come to bed, but Nick turned him down, said the sofa was fine. Dan wasn’t going to push it because everything felt really fragile.

Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come easily either. Dan laid in bed for what was probably several hours, tossing and turning. Maybe he’d become more accustomed to having less range of motion, to the presence of someone else beside him in the dark. Or maybe it was just the twist-tangle of thoughts in his mind that was making it difficult to sleep.

Or maybe it was just his stupid pillow.

Dan sat up, punched the pillow a few times to flatten it out and laid his head back down with a groan. It wasn’t any better. He let out a heavy breath and shut his eyes.

It wasn’t the fucking pillow, but God how he wished that it was.

 _Yeah, you too,_ Dan saw that text in his mind. _Why did I say that? Why the fucking fuck—_

Dan’s eyes opened again. He knew why he said it. He said it because it was clear that Phil didn’t mind if Dan was with Nick. It didn’t matter that Dan wasn’t. It mattered that Phil didn’t care because Dan cared. He fuckingcared. He didn’t want Phil seeing other people. That thought made his skin crawl, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it without making himself look pathetic and desperate.

How had he let this happen? How had he let himself get in so deep? Phil was the prince of the whole damn country. He should’ve known better. He had. At some point in all of this, before it got out of control, he had known better. And then he’d gotten swept away in the fantasy of it all. He’d gotten swept away in dark hair and pretty eyes with so many colors in them. Phil was funny and open. He’d seemed kind and genuine and the way Dan felt when he was around him… like he’d come home after a long journey he hadn’t even realized he was on. So yeah, fucking sue him, he’d gotten caught up in feeling like that and forgotten the cold hard facts of reality.

Phil was a prince. He was the future king. Dan was no one. Dan made silly videos on the internet that he took too seriously and, sure, he tried to do good things, to give back. YoungMinds, Stop, Speak, Support, but it was a Sisyphean task, wasn’t it? Trying to make a goddamn difference in the world? How arrogant was he to think that Phil actually might be interested in him for more than sex and a distraction?

Maybe it was for the best if Dan just stopped talking to Phil, just let the connection slowly break and dull.

His chest tightened. His body seemed to physically, viscerally, nearly painfully, reject theidea, and that made him almost more terrified. Terrified that he wanted Phil so badly he was willing to take whatever he could get, even if it hurt.

The only way Dan got to sleep that night was with his eyes squeezed shut, the comforter tucked up under his chin and his fingers aching at how tightly he was clinging to the fabric. He just kept reminding himself, kept repeating these words over and over in his head. _Take what you can get. You’ll take what you can get._

 

When Dan woke up, Nick wasn’t in the house. That wasn’t entirely unusual, as often Nick would get up and go for a morning run or head out to the gym, but Dan had slept in, and long past when Nick normally returned from his morning work out.

Had he left, just fucked off back to the states without even telling Dan he was leaving? Was he that mad at Dan for reasons Dan didn’t fully or even at all understand? Was he that sick of sharing space with him?

 _I don’t blame him…_ Dan thought, then had to just shove that thought away. He’d spent years working on how to shove thoughts like that away and he was getting pretty good at it.

Dan opened the drawers that Nick had put his socks and pants in it—they never had gotten around to buying him that dresser of his own—and all of his things were still neatly folded inside, so maybe he hadn’t totally bailed, but still. it was weird. Everything felt weird.

When he looked at his phone, he only had two messages. Neither one was from Nick. One was a text from Louise about grabbing lunch when she was in London next week with her new baby, and the other was the standard voicemail from Emily about work.

Dan shot Louise a quick text back, telling him that was fine and just to let him know when she was available, and then opened up his voicemail and listened to Emily go on about the merch store and about cursing less in gaming videos because his last few had been demonetized, which was fucking stupid, and about the details for the Star Wars premiere at the end of the week. Though, even with the details, she was still pretty vague about it. She knew Dan was taking Nick, and she still didn’t seem to ever want to talk about Nick. And, at this point, Dan wasn’t sure that was even still happening. Dan might be going to that premiere all on his own.

As Dan was waiting for Nick to get back (hopefully), his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Phil, and he already missed that happy-giddy swoop he used to feel at that sight of his name. Now, it just seemed to feel like the loss of that feeling. An empty, hungry space.

Dan didn’t even want to look at the text right now, didn’t want to be even more acutely reminded of that space. So, he just sat his phone aside and went to make coffee. Eventually though, as the last of the brew was sputtering out into his mug, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to know what Phil said.

Dan walked over to where he’d left his phone and opened up the message from Phil.

Phil: I know I shouldn’t prefer instant coffee but i do.

Dan’s lips twitched up into a smile. It wasn’t fair how easily the prince could make him smile, especially when he was feeling like this. At first he wasn’t sure how to respond but then he just decided on pretending everything was normal.

Dan: i’ll stick to my espresso machine

Phil: Fancy ;)

Dan leaned against the wall, fighting another smile as he typed out his response.

Dan: oh yes, between the two of us, i’m clearly the fancy one

Phil: You are ;)

Dan: last time i checked you were the one who lived in a palace

There was a break in the response, as if Phil had set his phone down, probably just to work or to do anything but for all Dan knew Phil could have met some hot northern man and—

Phil: You can put a giraffe in a garage, doesn’t make it car

Dan: I don’t know. I think you’re a pretty fancy giraffe.

Before Phil responded, Dan heard the front door open and he felt a swoop of nerves. He hated that he had to feel nervous about something as simple as Nick coming inside the house, but he did. At this moment, it felt like he had to be nervous about everything. Like his entire life was an endless field of eggshells.

“Hey, Dan,” Nick called out. “You up?”

For some reason, Dan struggled to speak as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket. “Yep. Yeah, I’m in the lounge!” He finally managed to call out.

Nick walked into the lounge. He wasn’t wearing his work out clothes and he was holding two drinks from Starbucks. “Here, I brought you this. You like matcha tea, right?”

Dan gave him a small smile and slowly reached out for the drink. His finger brushed over Nick’s as he took it, and Nick pulled away a little faster than Dan was expecting, making Dan splash a little of the warm matcha tea onto his jeans.

“Shit,” Dan said, wiping at it with his thumb.

“Sorry.” Nick gave him a lopsided grin. “Might’ve been my fault.”

Dan didn’t reply as Nick sat down beside him on the sofa. They didn’t say anything to each other, just sat side by side, their sips the only sound in the room.

“You have any plans today?” Nick asked.

Dan took another sip of the tea. “No, not really. You?”

“Just thought maybe, if you wanted, we could go out to some stores together. I don’t have a suit for the premiere yet, and this isn’t one of those where it’s fancy enough that someone dresses me. Though, now that I think about it, you might already have your suit picked out.”

“Who, me? The king of procrastination? I don’t think so.” Dan did, actually. He’d bought something off the internet a few weeks ago, but there was that field of eggshells and Dan didn’t want Nick to think he didn’t want to do anything with him. He so desperately wanted things to feel normal again. He wanted it even more than he wanted to know why they’d stopped feeling normal. Had Nick walking in on Dan been the catalyst or had it been the straw that broke the camels back?

 

 

They went to a few different stores and didn’t find much of anything, but it was actually kind of nice to be outside, despite his branding, in the cold winter air, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his coat. He was glad he was able to stop and get a late, quick lunch with Nick, that after a while they seemed able to slip back into their usual patterns. Whether things were normal again or they were just pretending Dan didn’t know, but he also wasn’t sure that he cared. He needed the stability of his friendship with Nick right now.

“Wait, Dan, did you see that?” Nick asked as they were standing up from the table.

Dan blinked, glancing around. “See what?”

Nick frowned. “Nothing. It’s nothing, Let’s just go.”

“Okay…”

After lunch, Nick had dragged Dan into a shop that was a little more expensive than he normally went for. They hadn’t had much luck anywhere else, so it was worth a shot, right? Except for the part where Dan totally already had a suit for the premiere and didn’t need to drop several thousands pounds on one. But whatever. He’d told a lie and now he had to let that lie play all the way out, didn’t he? No matter if it set him back like half of his rent payment for that month.

Dan stood with his hands in his pockets as Nick put his hands in the sparse racks of clothes. Dan was a little afraid of ruining something. No matter how much money he had it was hard to stop feeling like the boy who had to mow lawns or work at Asda or whatever the hell else just to manage to do maybe a little bit more than squeak by. Dan would never forget the time his parents had to use his birthday money to pay the utilities bill. It had only ever happened once, and it had just been a particularly bad month. But he had maybe been just a little too young to have to realize how tenuous everything really was.

“What about this one?” Nick asked, holding up a white suit.

“You’re not worried you’ll look like a waiter,” Dan joked.

“Not for me for you.”

“So you want me to look like a waiter?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Just try it on, dumbass.”

Dan sighed, faking annoyance. At second glance, the suit actually looked kind of nice. “Fine.” Dan walked over to Nick and grabbed the suit out of his hand.

 

Dan was stood in the fitting room, staring at himself in the large mirror. The clothes he’d worn today were piled up on a wooden bench and he was staring at himself in a white suit with a black shirt underneath. Not to toot his own horn, but he thought he looked pretty good and not at all like a waiter.

“You coming out?” Nick called in to him through the door.

“I did that like three years ago.” Dan laughed but was met with silence. “Oh come on, I get nothing for that, not even a pity laugh,” he said as he opened the fitting room door and stepped into where Nick had been waiting for him by a small leather sofa, a rack of charcoal grey suits and some large windows leading out to the street.

Nick was looking down at his phone, not paying Dan any mind at all.

“So, Mr. Jonas, what do you think?”

Nick looked up from his phone, and just kind of stared at Dan, his expression unreadable.

Dan looked down at himself. “Too waiter-y or no.”

“No,” Nick said. “Definiltey. Not too waiter-y.”

“Oh, uh, okay. That’s good. I think I might get this one, even though I might have to not eat for a—“

“Fuck,” Nick spat. “Fucking shit.”

“What? What is it?”

Nick grabbed Dan by the sleeve of the white suit jacket and yanked him down behind the rack of charcoal suits.

“Nick, what the hell!” Dan hissed.

“Look! Across the street,” Nick hissed, still grabbing onto the cuff of Dan’s suit jacket.

Dan squinted, trying to figure out what had Nick acting so strange, then it caught his eye. The flash of a camera.

Standing beside lamppost across the street was the familiar and unfriendly face of the pap who’d harassed them after dinner, the pap whose camera Dan had broken, the pap who had and had yet to release unflattering footage of both him and Nick.

Dan swallowed, tightly, still staring. Then, those eyes across the street somehow met his, even cowering in these stupid linen suits. That pap’s lips curled into a small smile, he lifted up his right hand and flipped Dan off.

A crowd passed by, blocking his line of sight, and by the time they were gone, the pap had gone too.

Dan stood up. “He’s fucking following us.”

Nick stood up too. “That’s what they do, but still, that one’s a particular asshole.”

“Did you find anything?” Dan asked Nick, feeling uneasy. “We should probably get out of here.”

 

They were back home, sprawled on the couch, watching some music videos together when Dan’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Phil: I get back Friday, but I’m busy that night. We can do something Saturday night though, if you’re like free and wanted to though. It’s Saturday night so i get it if you’ve already got plans.

A part of Dan wanted to double down on the whole seeing other people thing and just say he was busy on Saturday, maybe that would make him seem more desirable or something, but he was feeling good in that moment, Nick’s shoulder pressed against his, their feet kicked up onto the coffee table, a good, steady beat thumping the background. He felt good enough that he didn’t want to lie and make himself feel shitty again. Besides, he actually really did want to see Phil again.

Dan: i’m busy friday too, but my saturday is open.

Phil: Awesome! What are you up to Friday?

Dan: New Star Wars premiere.

Phil: Seriously??? Me too!!


	25. Chapter 25

Dan still hadn’t gotten used to standing on red carpets, especially when he wasn’t doing interviews. He always felt a little out of place with the lights flashing at him. He was more of a selfie guy, enjoying control over how he was presented to the world. He didn’t get that with this as he walked onto the carpet with Nick Jonas at his side. Because of that, the cameras were turned on him more than they’d ever be if he were to be here alone.

But, eventually, the cameras would turn from Nick too and find themselves an even more fascinating subject—the prince of England. Phil had said he would be here, and it made sense, now that Dan had given it the thought that he hadn’t before. This was the _Royal_ premiere. And Phil, well, the next in line to the crown was pretty goddamn royal.

Dan was so caught up in his thoughts that it took Nick grabbing his arm to stop him from walking past one of the many photo op moments along the red carpet. Normally, most photographers would take his picture, basically, he thought, out of pity because, for some reason, that almost certainly escaped them (as it did him), he was an invited guest. But Nick was _big._ Nick was _interesting_ , and so the reporters and interviewers would actually stop them and ask questions.

One of interviewers—a blonde with long acrylic fingernails—asked Nick, “So who’s your date?”

Dan felt a little trapped under the thumb of the phrasing ‘so who’s your date?’ Date. _Date._ It wasn’t a date. Not that that was a bad thing. It just wasn’t the truth.

“This is my best friend,” Nick said. “Dan Howell, and actually I’m _his_ plus one.” He put his hand on Dan’s back as they took another picture.

Dan breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it through the gauntlet of photographers and interviewers. “I always feel so fucking awkward with all that.”

Nick laughed. “You did just fine.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, but sometimes he really did feel like there had been a mix-up in heaven or in like the illuminati or the committee for planning the fucking universe. Not that he believed in that stuff, but if he did, him being at red carpet events and best friends with a pop star and the prince’s booty call—or whatever the hell he was—was most certainly a mix up. His reptilian alien overlord had clearly fallen asleep at the controls. Steven probably got fired for fucking shit up this bad.

“Ooo,” Nick said, nudging Dan. “I see drinks. Let’s get hammered.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “What’s with you and getting hammered. This better not be that night at the bar all over again.”

“You mean the night where I got laid and you didn’t?” Nick was a few feet ahead and shot cheeky look over his shoulder at Dan.

Dan hurried to catch up with him. “Hey, I could’ve gotten laid. The offer was on the table and I walked away.”

“You’re a man of impeccable self control. It’s one of your worst qualities.”

Just then, there was an announcement that quieted everyone at the event. They were all to stand to their feet, to turn and give proper attention—the prince had arrived. As the first notes of “God Save The Queen” began to play and, across the sea of suits and gowns and bright red, Phil stepped from the backseat of a shiny black town car.

All Dan wanted to do was run, run straight down that red carpet through the array of flashing lights and right into Phil’s arms. He wanted to grab him by the lapels of his designer blue suit jacket and pull him in for a kiss, audience be damned. But he didn’t, of course. Dan stayed rooted to the spot, like the soles of his shoes had melted and fused him to the ground beneath him. Impeccable self control, indeed.

When the national anthem came to a close and Phil had been whisked away from public view, everything shifted back to normal, everything except for how Dan was feeling inside.

“Did you know the prince was coming?” Nick asked.

Dan nodded. “Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“Oh. You didn’t tell me.”

“Was I supposed to?” Dan asked.

Nick took a step back from him, his brow furrowed. “No. Just thought you would mention something like that. Jesus.”

There was an edge to Nick’s voice, and Dan wasn’t sure if they were fighting again. It seemed to come on and go on with little warning, and the last week had left Dan feeling uneasy. Like everything in the world was tilted, not too much, but enough to keep him tense, always at risk of falling.

“Let’s just get some drinks,” Dan said with a sigh, briefly glancing over his shoulder in the direction that Phil had just walked, like he’d left a trail of his energy behind him.

“Yeah.” Nick rubbed at the back of his neck. “Let’s.”

Dan ordered himself a glass of white wine and Nick just got two shots of tequila. He slammed it back, no salt, no lime, and then he did it with the second one and leaned back against the bar and smiled at Dan. Come on and go on—with no fucking warning at all.

“We should probably take a selfie or two—for Instagram,” Nick said.

Just then, a group of Stormtroopers a few yard off caught Dan’s eyes. “We should—and look.” He pointed to the Stormtroopers. “I have to!”

“Yeah, especially because you look like one.”

Dan glanced down at himself. “Oh God I do.”

When Dan finished off his glass of wine, he left it on the bar, and headed over to get a few pictures with the Stormtroopers, snapped by Nick, and then they took some together. Dan was thinking about finding another background with better lighting when he noticed that people were walking into the theatre. Dan walked with Nick through the crowd of people. He spoke to an usher who directed them to their seats, which were tucked off to the side. Definitely not the best seats in the house, except for one thing. Dan had to barely look over his left shoulder to see Phil, sat above them in a special booth, definitely the best seat in the house.

Phil looked fantastic sat there with Maxwell and his assistant, just chatting casually with both of them, and then his mouth stopped moving, and his eyes focused right down on Dan.

Dan’s heart swooped and he tensed. Maybe Phil would be pissed that he was looking at him so openly, but then, Phil just smiled. Bright and white and wonderful.

A single smile sent him to across a distance and Dan was all gooey and melty on the inside. Like a kid with his first crush or something. It felt silly. It was silly. This wasn’t hand-holding and rose petals and rowboats. This was physical. It was sexual and secret. It was Dan sat beside Nick—his friend, _just_ his friend, but who Dan had let Phil believe might be more when Phil had made it clear to Dan that he didn’t care if it _was_ more. But, still, it was a smile that _wrecked_ him. A smile that made Dan abandon all reason.

Eventually, the lights in the theatre dimmed, making a glance in Phil’s direction, nothing but a glance at darkness. The screen brightened too—the familiarity of the beginning of the Star Wars movie filled the space. The rise of the John Williams score, the bright yellow text moving over the starry blackness of simulated space. Even as Dan tried to sink into the story being told in the Last Jedi, he felt his attention buoyed by the mere thought of Phil behind him. Maybe the lighting was different from Phil’s perspective, maybe the glow of the enormous screen illuminated the back of Dan’s head and maybe Phil was watching as often as he was watching the movie. Wishful thinking, Dan knew, but it was the kind of wishful thinking that had his heart beating faster, had the space between his fingers becoming tacky with sweat, had desire coiling around inside him.

He sat there, trying desperately to pay attention to the movie, and sometimes he could manage, but he just kept squirming in his seat, thinking about Phil and about the way he was feeling that he wished he wasn’t feeling right now because it was really fucking inconvenient. Maybe he needed to get up for a moment, walk out of this theatre so he wasn’t in the same room as Phil. So he could breathe again.

“I need to piss,” Dan whispered to Nick, then practically shot up out of his chair. He faintly heard Nick say “okay” as he excused himself past the people sat beside them.

When he was finally out of the darkened theatre, he took a deep breath, like there was oxygen out here and, in there, it had been taken up entirely by Phil.

Dan wandered through the halls, barely paying mind to the architecture from the start of the last century, to the walls that had heard the laughter of audiences all the way back to the silent movie era, and followed the signs that lead him to the toilets. He pushed open the door and stepped onto the white tile, into the acrid smell of toilet bowl cleaner and chemically-sweet smell of cheap antibiotic soap. He passed all the stalls, each faded door open and empty.

Dan walked over to a urinal and unzipped his fly. He tugged his dick out and started to piss. As he did, someone else walked up, though he didn’t look because that went against protocol. But he could tell by the sound of the opening door and the click of it closing, plus the footsteps across the tile to the urinal next to him and unzipped. _Right_ next to him when there were a bunch of other ones available. Now that broke the biggest protocol of them all, which meant Dan could break a smaller one and look over.

Blue suit—obviously expensive. Lovely, slender legs. Familiar hands.

 _Fuck… fuck._ It couldn’t be. Dan was the only one in here, but he could’ve not been. Phil was taking a risk. That was one thing Dan had misjudged about Phil before he met him. He’d never expected how willing he’d be to defy expectation.

“That suit on you,” Phil said. “Jesus Christ, Dan. You’ll be the death of me.”

Dan’s eyes shut as heat fluttered all over his body. “I’ll be the death of _you_? All due respect, sir, you don’t have a goddamn idea.” Dan looked up and over—and Phil was looking back at him.

Looking… staring… they both still had their hands on their cocks.

Eyes on Phil the whole time, Dan tucked himself back in, zipped back up. The sound of his fly was ridiculously loud. Phil did the same thing. His zipper sounded even louder. It was deafening.

But it was a pretense. As soon as they were both done with it, it was obvious. Phil had come in here, had likely followed Dan in here for a reason. And Dan, Dan was staying in here for a reason.

“Maxwell’s guarding the door outside.”

“Fuck it, then” Dan said and kissed Phil.

It was still a lightning bolt, still an electric storm that he’d somehow managed to catch on his tongue.

Phil kissed him back, opening his mouth and letting Dan’s tongue in. He tasted a bit like alcohol and a little like mint gum, like he’d popped it in his mouth because he’d come down here to these bathrooms on a mission. And Dan’s mouth was that mission.

Dan opened the single button of Phil’s suit jacket with his fingers and then slid his hands over the thin, soft cotton of his dress shirt. He was slender, but still broad and solid. Phil was everything Dan wanted his hands all over—and with how much Phil was touching him too, he must’ve felt the same.

Phil bit at Dan’s lip as Dan broke away for air and that was too much—so hot—his mind was spinning with nothing but what his body wanted which was this, but more. Phil—all of him.

Suddenly, it was like the toilet stalls were on both their minds and they were pushing each other towards them in a wild frenzy of hands and mouths everywhere. But, eventually, it was Dan that pushed Phil into one of the stalls, then kicked the door shut behind them and locked it.

Phil was stood there, eyes wide, hair disheveled from Dan’s hands, his lips were red and wet from Dan’s lips, which were probably in the same debauched condition. He was the prince, but with his suit all askew and the back of his legs pressed to a public toilet seat, he didn’t exactly look the part.

Then, Phil surged forward again and crushed Dan’s mouth in another lightning bolt kiss. Dan’s back was pressed to the rickety stall door, their bodies slotted together, _pressed_ together. Dan was all the way hard now, enough that it hurt straining against the tight fabric of his trousers. And Phil— _fuck, fuck, fuck—_ Phil was hard too. Impressively hard, impressively large, a bulge pushed against his thigh.

It made Dan shudder, the thought of what Phil could do to him with it.

Dan pulled away from Phil’s lips with a smack and chased out of the feel of the stubble on his cheeks. He loved the roughness, the scratch against his already sore lips as he kissed down to his neck as he chased out the pulse point on Phil’s neck, wanting to feel it against the flat of his tongue.

Phil groaned, deep and guttural, as Dan traced his lips over the rise and fall of Phil’s Adam’s apple. He sank those slender fingers into Dan’s hair and tugged. Hard enough it almost hurt and that edged back pain sent a thought to the forefront of his mind. A stupid, scandalous, _delicious_ thought.

Dan stopped kissing Phil. He pulled back, just a little, just enough to look Phil in the eye, to somehow signal his desperate intent. Phil just stared back at him, eyes blown wide, a tremble to his bottom lip.

Dan put his hand on Phil’s chest and started to slide it down as he started to drop down. Phil shut his eyes and swallowed as he slipped a hand into Dan’s hair to help guide him down to his knees.

When Dan’s knees hit the hard tile, it sent a small shock of pain through him that reminded him of his surroundings. He could suddenly smell the cleaner again—this time, enough to make him lightheaded. There were some gross spots on the tiles by his foot and he could see grime around the base of the toilet between Phil’s legs. This wasn’t the first time Dan had hooked up in a public toilet. Not by a long shot. There had been the occasional grindr date or lucky pub ‘score’. All people he’d never seen again the next day.

Dan could feel his hands start to shake as he moved his fingers toward Phil belt buckle. He slipped a finger under the soft leather to undo it. He was feeling a little queasy—the familiar claws of anxiety digging in between his ribs. And, in a flash, he thought of all of it. Of the first time they met—the ease like they’d known each other before. Sam knocking him flat in the gardens of Kensington Palace. Phil phoning him on a bad day, when they barely knew each other just to talk. Their knees bumping under the table at Eloise’s. That kiss—that kiss at the Tower of London. The kiss to start and end all other kisses. The way it had felt, not in his body, but in his heart.

Dan couldn’t do this.

“I can’t,” Dan said at the exact same time Phil said, “Stop.”

 _What?_ His mind spun as he struggled up to his feet. They both talked over each other for a moment in a mess of incoherent words.

“You first,” Phil said, loud enough that it cut through Dan’s blathering.

He drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Oh God, Phil.” Dan raked a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t do this.”

Phil’s face fell. “Oh… okay…”

“I just… fuck, I’m not seeing other people. Nick is just a friend who’s been sleeping in my bed because I only have one fucking bed, right? And I haven’t seen anyone else…”

“Why did you—“

“Because I was embarrassed that you obviously didn’t care if I was. I had just let myself think things were more serious than they were for you and I felt stupid and so I lied because I didn’t want to stop seeing you.”

“Dan, what—“

“Just let me get this out okay. I’m sorry. I thought I could just put my feelings aside and, you know, be what you needed me to be—a casual lay or whatever—but it’s not fair to me or fair to you. I like you, Phil. Like I have genuine feelings for you and so I can’t just blow you in a toilet because then I’m always just some guy who blew you in a toilet and I don’t think I can live with—”

“Dan, shut up.”

Dan pressed his lips together, fear jolting through him, but then, it happened. Phil smiled. Small and tipped up gently on one side.

“I’m so sorry,” Phil said.

“F-for what?”

“That I ever let you feel that way even for a second.”

Dan blinked, shaking his head. What the hell was happening?

“When I heard Nick say what he did about the bed, I just thought you... I don’t know. I really don’t have much experience with all this, and I just thought you’d just said Nick was a friend when I asked the first time because we didn’t know each other that well. I didn’t want to think that you could be cheating, but I guess technically, I didn’t know you weren’t, but it was easier to just assume that you were seeing several people.”

Dan knew that. That was what had hurt Dan. That Phil thought that and wasn’t bothered by it at all.

“I know, but you were fine with that. I’m not fine with—“

“I’m not fine with it either.”

“Then, why—“

“Because I was embarrassed too! Because I like you—a lot—and because I thought that you were seeing other people which sucked, Dan, it sucked. But pretending I was okay with it seemed preferable to never seeing you again. But, when you were about to… in a public toilet… I know I was the one that followed you in here, but I just _couldn’t._ It’s not what I want.”

Dan laughed, a broken cracking sound.

Phil looked down and said quietly, “Can you not laugh at me?”

“God, Phil, I’m not laughing at you.” Dan put his shaky fingers under Phil’s chin and pushed Phil’s gaze up to meet his own. “I like you too. So much.”

“Really?” Phil asked. “And you’re not seeing anyone else?”

“Really, and I’m not. Never was. Kind of couldn’t get you out of my head long enough… And you’re not seeing anyone else either?”

Phil shook his head. “Of course not.” He bit his lip. “Anyone else isn’t you.”

There it was again. That swooping feeling that Dan worried he’d never feel again. That wonderful, warm, swept off his feet feeling that wasn’t like anything he’d felt before with anyone else.

Phil put his warm hands on Dan’s cheeks, smoothed his thumbs over Dan’s cheekbones, then kissed him, still smiling. They were both smiling and kissing. Grinning into each press of their mouths together. Their teeth kept bumping into each other but Dan didn’t care. He was way too happy to care.

“I can’t believe we had this conversation in a public toilet stall,” Dan said with a laugh.

Phil giggled that cute tongue pressed between his teeth giggle.

“We’re weird,” Dan said.

“Good kind of weird?” Phil asked, an eyebrow raised.

Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck and nudged their noses together. “Best kind of weird.”

“I hate to say this, but we should probably get back to the theatre. We’ve been in here for an… unusual amount of time.”

“They’ll probably just think we’re taking a shit together,” Dan said.

Phil rolled his eyes. “That’s so much better.”

Dan reached behind him and unlocked the stall door and stepped out of it. He really didn’t want to leave Phil right now, but he understood.

“Dan, wait,” Phil said.

He stopped and turned back. “What is it?”

“I should’ve said… and I’m sorry I don’t know if this changes things for you, but it’s probably best if we’re still… discreet about our relationship. I’m sorry but—”

“I get it, Phil.” He did. It made perfect sense and he wasn’t even disappointed about it. Dan wasn’t looking to be under that kind of scrutiny. He just wanted to enjoy this thing with Phil. “And I don’t care what the world thinks we are. Just what you think we are.”

“Boyfriends?” Phil asked, a little sheepishly.

Dan laughed, but, God, did he love the sound of that. “Yes. You absolute dork. Now, let’s get out of here before Maxwell reports you missing or something.”

 

When Dan finally got back to his seat, he was still grinning wide-enough that it hurt.

Nick leaned over and whispered, “Where the hell were you?”

“The toilet,” Dan whispered back.

Nick eyed him and it made Dan look down at himself. He was rather disheveled. His shirt was partially unbuttoned and untucked from his trousers, and he couldn’t see it but he imagined his hair was a sight as well.

“You might want to at least try to look like you didn’t get fucked in—“

“I didn’t—“

“ _Shh!_ ” shouted someone behind them.

“Nick,” Dan whispered, trying to be even quieter.

“Dan, just… I’m trying to watch the damn movie.”

Dan let out a sigh and settled back in his seat. He didn’t know what Nick’s problem was, but honestly, it was hard to care right now. Phil _liked_ him, and just him. Dan looked in the direction through the darkness where he knew Phil was sat even though he couldn’t see and just smiled.


	26. Chapter 26

On the way home from the premiere, all Dan could think was that he understood that saying about feeling like you were floating ten feet off the ground. He knew he was acting a bit strange, a little goofy and off kilter. And Nick seemed to notice too, if his side glances were anything to go by. Still, he didn’t ask. Even though Dan was bursting to tell him about what had happened just like Nick used to gush about Emily as their relationship progressed, even though it was sometimes a little weird for Dan, he stayed quiet. To be fair though, it probably wasn’t just to spare Nick the details he didn’t care about. It was because he wanted to keep this to himself. Wanted to hold it close to his chest. This moment, with Phil, had felt important. Like one of the most important moments he was ever going to have. Sharing it right now, even with his best friend in the world, felt wrong.

Dan opened the door to his flat and walked inside. Nick followed him in. Dan sat the keys down on the counter and toed his shoes off.

“I’m beat,” Nick said. It was one of the first things he’d said since they left the premiere. “I’m gonna go crash.”

“Yeah, okay. It’s been a long day,” Dan replied.

Nick gave him a half-smile and a nod, then walked off towards the lounge where he’d been sleeping on the sofa.

Dan stood there for a moment, then let out a breath before just turning and walking into his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, and started to strip off his suit. When he was tugging off the trousers, he noticed a little dirt on the knees, which probably shouldn’t have made him smile but did. He tossed them into a heap by the dresser, then went to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.

When he walked back to the room, he saw a glow through the heap of white fabric on the ground. He figured he must’ve left his phone in his pocket when he took his clothes off. Dan knelt down and fumbled around for his pocket. He pulled his phone out and looked at the screen.

Phil: Hi

There it was again. Quick and deep, that wonderful swooping feeling Dan had thought he’d never feel again. But he was feeling it now, as if he’d never stopped feeling it all.

Dan: hey phil :))

Phil: Idk about you but I wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all

A grin broke out on Dan’s face and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip. He really was affecting Phil just like Phil was affecting him. What was this? _A bloody miracle is what it is._ Dan: i’m not even sure what a star wars is anymore

He was actually going to have to rewatch that movie someday because he had almost no idea of what happened, and he actually was a big a Star Wars fan. Turned out he was just slightly more of a Prince Philip fan than a Star Wars fan.

Phil: I’m glad we had that talk, like so so glad, but there’s a less noble part of me that’s bummed I missed out on what you were going to do ;)

Dan shut his eyes and a warm shiver rushed over his skin. He thought back to that moment, back to being on his knees in front of Phil, of almost opening his belt and his trousers, of almost unzipping that fly and tugging down his pants and seeing _him._ Phil, this private part of this person he’d come to care for so deeply. And then, he could’ve put his mouth around him and made him feel good. _So_ good. Yeah, it was for the best they didn’t do it then, in a fucking public toilet, but it didn’t stop Dan from wanting to do it some other time. And it didn’t stop the pride from creeping in at the thought of Phil wanting him to do it.

Dan: you should be. I’m very good at that

A cheeky response maybe, but he liked being cheeky with Phil. Liked being flirty. It was exciting and real in a way that it had never been with anyone else before. And that… that was a thought that he’d have to process later. Too much had already happened tonight.

Phil: you can’t just say that to me. its cruel.

Dan: sorry mate lol raincheck?

Phil: You better believe it :) we still on for tomorrow night?

Dan responded quickly, not thinking much at all about it.

Dan: fuck yeah

 _Oh shit,_ he thought _, was that too much or…_

Dan: i can say that now right? i don’t have to be like aloof anymore?

Phil: Please don’t be. I want you to be honest with me about how you feel.

Dan: same. so much.

It was incredibly true. Almost frighteningly true how much he wanted to know about this man, how deep he wanted to go with it, with the connection they had and the things they could share with each other. He wanted lay himself bare for Phil and watch Phil lay himself bare as well, inside and out.

Phil: <3 so I was thinking and I hope this isn’t too forward bc I don’t mean it to be but I was thinking we could maybe do dinner at my place if you’re comfortable with that

Another swoop, even bigger than before, as he imagined that. Alone, maybe, _really_ alone with Phil for the first time. Tucked away into the place where he spent his life, the place he called home. Even if that place was— _fuck,_ Dan looked around his dank kind of bare of bedroom _—_ that place was Kensington Palace.

Dan: your place?

Phil: If that’s okay, if not, I can figure something else out where we can go maybe

That was not what Dan had meant. He needed to correct it quickly because he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than private time with Phil.

Dan: no no it’s good :) I’m excited. And hey a palace is an upgrade from a prison and a toilet

Phil: don’t forget a high school geography classroom.

Dan blew a shaky breath out between his lips as that memory flooded back. That look in Phil’s eyes right before he kissed him. Dan could see it like it was happening right now.

Dan: how could I?

Phil didn’t immediately text back like he had been, but eventually Dan saw those three dots appear and then, finally.

Phil: Sorry, I dozed off there. I didn’t realize how tired I was.

Dan: That’s okay. I’m pretty sleepy too. Talk to your tomorrow?

Phil: <3 of course. Good night, Daniel.

Dan just smiled. Phil was so good at bringing out all the smiles Dan didn’t even know he had.

Dan: Good night, sir ;)

Phil: :P

Dan laid there for a moment, trying to sleep, but he just kept thinking about Phil—about his smile and his laugh and those eyes and his touch. It kept him tossing and turning and tossing and—

There was a knock at the door. He jumped a little, startled, then called out, “Yeah?”

“It’s me.” _Nick,_ of course. Who else would it have been? “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

Nick walked into his room shirtless in a pair of gym shorts, his pillow, Dan’s pillow technically, tucked under his arm. He looked over at Dan’s bed. “Can I?”

Dan yawned and rolled over in the bed. He threw back the covers on the other side. “‘Course, mate. Get in.”

He listened to Nick’s bare feet pat on the wood floor, and then felt the bed dip as he slipped into bed beside him.

“Sofa fucking up your back?” Dan whispered.

Nick didn’t immediately respond, but eventually, “Yeah. You should get a new one.”

“Came with the flat.”

“Oh.” Nick let out a breath. “Night, Dan.”

“Good night.”

As Dan drifted to sleep, he was thinking how it felt nice to have the weight and warmth in the bed with him again. He’d gotten used to it, and he was glad that Nick had gotten past whatever had convinced him he didn’t belong.

 

 

Dan woke to the sound of rustling, of dresser drawers being open and shut. He sat up in bed, yawning, and rubbed at his achy eyes. It took a few blinks before he was able to push the blur away enough to see what was going on.

Nick was bent over, pulling things out the dresser and putting them into his suitcase.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dan asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Nick said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine, but why are you… packing?” _Is that what was happening?_ It seemed like it.

Nick looked at Dan, his head tilted, like Dan was the one behaving strangely right now, not him.

“I’m… going back to New York, Dan. I told you that. That I was leaving after the premiere.”

Dan’s stomach sank and he slid out of bed. He wasn’t wearing anything but his pants because Nick had stopped sleeping in the bed with him. “I thought you were just…”

“Just what?” Nick asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Dan rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know.” He really didn’t want Nick to go. He wanted to ask him to stay but he wasn’t sure he could do that, not really understanding why he was leaving the first place. Something about running and being happy and Dan really did not get it.

“Can you hand me those?” Nick asked, pointing to his pair of running shoes that were over near Dan’s grey mirror.

“Uh, yeah,” Dan said, as a little distantly, as he walked over to them up. He grabbed them and walked them over to Nick.

Nick took the shoes and gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Dan stood there for a moment, just watching Nick stuff his shoes into his luggage. “Why New York?” he blurted. “I just mean, I get like not wanting to live in my flat and put up with my shit forever, but you were working on your visa and stuff. You could find a place in London.”

“Dan—”

“Is this about… I mean, is it about Emily?”

Nick dropped his gaze down and shook his head. “No, no Dan. This isn’t about Emily. Why would this be about…” He let out a sigh. “Sorry. It’s just, you know, my career. My work and shit. It’s in New York and LA, and my agent called me about a part in a movie the director wants me to audition for.”

“That’s great, Nick, but like you were the one who said, at dinner, to Joe, that you could work from London so, I don’t know, I guess I’m not sure what changed your mind.”

Nick opened up one of the drawers that was filled with Dan’s stuff and tossed a pair of shorts at Dan. “It’s hard to have this conversation with you while you’re in your underwear.”

Dan just shot him a look, but then pulled the shorts on. He was still shirtless though and suddenly he almost wished Nick would throw him a t-shirt too.

“What _is_ this fucking conversation?” Dan mumbled.

“I don’t know,” Nick said. “I thought we already had it.”

Dan sighed. He guessed technically Nick was correct. They’d had a conversation about Nick leaving but he hadn’t thought it had been resolved. For some reason, that he realized was stupid now, he really hadn’t thought Nick would actually leave.

“When are you leaving?” Dan’s throat was tight. He could feel the strain as he spoke.

“My flight’s early tomorrow.”

“Oh, uh, that soon?”

Nick shrugged, still mostly focused on packing. “Well, that audition is coming up so...”

“Right.” Dan let out a breath and put on a smile. “So we have till tomorrow then? Let me take you out, you know, to dinner.“

Nick stopped packing, hesitated with a shirt in his hand and looked back up at Dan. “Yeah, we should.” A tiny smile crossed his lips. “I’d like that.”

“Good. We’ll— oh, oh fuck,” Dan spat, as he suddenly remembered.

“What?”

Dan shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll just call him and cancel.”

“Who?”

“Phil. We had a date but he’ll under—“

“Go,” Nick said, his voice rather soft.

“It’s fine, Nick. It’s not like Phil is moving to New York. He’s kind of stuck here with me. Being the prince and all.”

“I’m serious, Dan.” Nick did sound serious. “Go on your date. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.” Nick looked at his empty drawer and then back at his suitcase.

“Right? I mean you’ve lived in New York pretty much our whole friendship. This isn’t any different.”

Nick zipped up his suitcase. It sounded painfully loud. “Right.” He smiled at Dan as he pulled his suit case upright. Then, he walked over to Dan like he was going to hug him but he just put out his hand.

Dan stared down at it, but reached out and took it anyway in sheer confusion and awkwardness.

Nick held it for a second and then pulled him in for one of those bro hugs, thumping Dan on the back and then letting him go.


	27. Chapter 27

Dan held his breath as he stood at the door step of Phil’s house at Kensington Palace—The Nottingham Cottage. He’d never taken the time to ask Phil where he lived now. Dan had expected that Phil had moved into the big apartment, 1a, since he was technically next in line to the throne. But, no, Phil was here. In this simple, cozy little home that was actually much smaller than he had expected it to be, maybe smaller even than his own flat or at least close to it, though it was significantly more adorable. It almost reminded him of something out of fairytale with its dark grey bricks, crawling with vines, and surrounded by a pretty white picket fence. Dan half expected Phil to throw open one of the windows and start singing out a melody that would attract a cast of woodland animals. After the raven incident at the tower of London, Dan probably wouldn’t even bat an eye.

As much as this all had the trapping of a fairytale, Dan still felt guilty for leaving Nick alone on his last night in London, but no matter how many times Dan told him he’d cancel with Phil, Nick insisted that Dan go on this date. Eventually, he gave in because the truth was he really did want to be here. _Badly._ Dan didn’t realize just how badly until he got here. Now, it felt like leaving might actually kill him.

Maxwell had already let him in through the gate, and left him standing here on the path through the garden that led to Phil’s front door with a warning that he could and would descend about the cottage within seconds if he were to be alerted or suspicious of anything going wrong. Dan had responded with an awkward joke that Maxwell hadn’t found funny, and then gone off to wherever a guy like that goes off too. So this would be the first time that he and Phil were truly left alone. It was hard to believe, but it was happening and that meant something.

That meant trust.

With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Dan dusted off his oversized knit jumper, then looked down at his pale legs through the rips in his jeans. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn ripped jeans to fucking Kensington Palace, but Phil had said it was just a casual dinner date, so it was fine right? And this was just how Dan dressed and yes he wanted to look good, but he also wanted to feel like himself. He needed to be himself with Phil—that felt like the promise they’d made to each other the night before.

Dan was still just standing there, far too long for it to be normal behavior. But it was like he was just frozen, just staring at the brass knocker on the door. He had to get up his courage, _had_ to, because he wanted to see Phil. God, how he already missed him, even though it hadn’t even been twenty four hours.

He needed to see Phil now.

Dan felt a little silly using that fancy brass knocker so he just rapped his knuckles on the door and waited. A few moments later, the door opened and Phil was standing there, just standing there in his own doorway and it made Dan’s knees wobble.

Phil looked incredible—just like always—in his quiff and his glasses, with those little crinkles in the pale skin around his eyes. He was smiling, but softly, not forced or too wide. Just natural, like he meant it. He was wearing a blue jumper that had almost a metallic sheen to it, the sleeves were pushed up around his elbows and he was wearing black jeans and god-fucking-damn he looked delicious.

“You made it,” Phil said with that still perfect soft smile.

Dan nodded. “I did.” Two words, totally pointless. But successfully saying them still felt like he’d climbed an actual mountain.

Phil glanced over his shoulder, then back at Dan. “Well, come on in.” He stepped away from the door and swept his arm out in a dramatic gesture.

Dan made sure to wipe his shoes off on the rug before stepping inside onto dark wood floors. The last thing he wanted to do was track a bunch of commoner mud onto Phil’s beautiful royal floors.

He looked down at his shoes. “Should I take them off? Don’t want to track dirt all over the place?

“You can take them off. I’m just here in my socks.” He was in his socks, his mismatched socks. One blue one with dogs on it and one grey one with little white clouds. How was this man real? _How? “_ But just to get comfy,” Phil continued. “I’m not worried about the mud. A little dirt never hurt anything, that’s what my dad always says.”

Prince Nigel seemed easy-going, kind, even from just what Dan had heard about him in the media. Common opinion was that he was those things. He was well liked by people, even if it wasn’t necessarily as a kind of serious leader like the Queen. Dan had seen Nigel casually referred to more than once as England’s dorky dad. Likeable and non-threatening. It was a pretty widespread belief that Phil took after his dad, though people found Phil a little stranger than they found Prince Nigel, and Martyn, well everyone had always said he’d taken after his mum.

Dan toed off his shoes, then suddenly felt really awkward about where to put them.

Somehow, like Phil read his mind, he opened a narrow closet by the front door and pointed inside it. “Just go ahead and toss them in there with mine.”

A part of Dan hesitated to toss—this was technically a _palace—_ but he wanted to follow Phil’s lead. He wanted to relax and try his best not to make too big of a deal about any of this, as hard as that would probably be. So he tossed and let his shoes thump into the closet with Phil’s shoes. He smiled. Shoes being all mixed up together shouldn’t make him smile but maybe he needed to stop questioning the things that made him smile—maybe that had been part of the promise they’d made to each other last night too.

“How was your trip over here?” Phil asked. “Not too crowded I hope.”

“It was fine.” Dan smiled at Phil, not bothering to try and conceal it all. “Worth it.”

A blush spread across Phil’s cheeks and he looked down. It was astounding that Dan could make Phil look like that—and not even because it was the prince looking at him like that—Dan didn’t really give a shit about that at the end of the day. It was Phil, just Phil, that he liked. It wouldn’t matter if he was the prince or if he was a nobody without two pounds in his pocket. Dan would still be, well, absolutely besotted with this man. He had not a single doubt in his mind about that.

“So, uh, you want a tour?” Phil asked.

Dan thought back on when he’d visited the Tower of London with Phil, and how excited Phil had been to tell him the historical details about the place. It had been adorable, and pretty damn sexy, to be perfectly honest. So, hell yeah, he could go for another tour.

Dan bit his lip and looked darkly at Phil. “Will it end the same way your last tour did?”

“If you behave.”

Dan faked gasped. “Me? But I’m the poster child for genteel decorum.”

“I’m sure you are.”

There was a cool looking shiny statue of kangaroo on the entry table in the hall. Dan reached out to it. “Oo, what’s this?”

“Careful.” Phil cringed, and Dan pulled his hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a gift from the, uh, Australian prime minister.”

Dan peered around, though he was in a hall and couldn’t see much of the actual house yet. “Is everything in here a gift bestowed to you by powerful public officials?”

“No,” Phil said. “Some of it’s from Amazon.”

“The actual Amazon or—“

Phil just rolled his eyes, and Dan laughed, then followed Phil down the short entry way. The walls were a bright paneled white that was still somehow cozy, and looked rich and beautiful contrasted with the dark, matte floors. House plants were sat on wall shelves above their heads, pretty tendrils of English ivy stretching down towards them. It seemed as much like a fairytale in here as it had outside.

They stepped into the living room. It was more open and spacious than he expected, with the size of the cottage. There were a few lit candles on the fireplace mantle, and it smelled sweet and woodsy, a deep rich scent that reminded Dan of Phil. It was well-decorated and cozy, homey, from the plush rug to the soft brown leather sofa to the almost excessive amount of houseplants to the drawings and sketches on the wall.

Dan squinted as he stepped toward one of the framed pencil and ink sketches. “That’s… Phil, oh my God, that’s Sarah Michelle Gellar.”

His eyes widened. “No, uh, it’s my aunt, uh, Lady…”

“Buffy?”

Phil frowned at him. It was unfair that a frown should be that cute. He had a mind to kiss it, but it probably wasn’t the time, so Dan just raised an eyebrow. “Phil…”

He sighed. “Fine. You caught me. It’s Sarah Michelle Gellar. I had it commissioned by this artist that’s a friend of… well, you remember Cornelia, Martyn’s fiancé?”

“Of course, and her friend is clearly very talented.” Dan looked around the room. “Did they do these other ones too?”

Phil nodded. “Most of them.”

Dan slowly circled the room, looking at the beautiful sketches decorating the walls. There were several Pokemon, including a Snorlax which made Dan laugh. There was the Hogwarts castle and the Hufflepuff crest—and in tiny letter the motto, _those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil._

Grinning, Dan looked over his shoulder at Phil. “Oh my God. You are a Hufflepuff, aren’t you?”

Phil pulled his shoulders, lifted up his chin a little. “And _proud._ Go on then, what house are you?”

“Gryffindor—sometimes I think Slytherin, but—“

“Gryffindor,” Phil said, softly, his shoulders tucking back in. “You’re definitely a Gryffindor.”

Dan gave Phil a small smile, then slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, feeling a sudden surge of warm nerves. To work out some of that anxious energy, Dan kept on looking at the sketches. There was one of Sam, sat in the garden, head flopped to the side and an ear perked.

Dan pointed at the picture. “Where is Sam, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s out in the garden. I figured you didn’t want to get tackled the moment you stepped in the door. I’ll have to let him in to feed him in a minute though. Speaking of food, you like sushi, right?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Good,” Phil said. “Though I didn’t know exactly what kind you liked, so I might have gotten… all the kinds.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “ _All_ the kinds?”

“The kitchen’s this way.” Phil waved him along. “I’ll show you my sushi haul… that’s a youtube thing, right? A haul?”

Dan let a laugh rumble in his chest. “Yes, Phil.”

Phil looked pretty proud of himself for knowing that as Dan followed him out of the living room and past the staircase into the kitchen.

What little light was left from the day was streaming in through the sheer curtains over the window above the basin sink. The countertops were a bright white marble and the cabinets were black. The appliances looked vintage, but Dan could tell they were actually new and likely very expensive. Tucked away in the corner of the room was a round, rustic looking wooden table that matched the cottage-y vibe of the rest of the house. It had another houseplant as centerpiece.

“Are you hungry?” Phil asked. “Would you want to eat now?”

“I could eat. As long as we finish the tour after,” he said it suggestively, and watched Phil blush. He looked absolutely beautiful with a splash of pink across his cheeks.

Phil looked away and cleared his throat. Then, he opened the refrigerator. Almost immediately, he shut it again. “Shit. I should let Sam in first. If not, he’’ll start eating up the vegetables out back. He loves the cucumbers, but whenever he eats them, he spends the whole night burping them back up, which is. you know, unpleasant.” Phil laughed awkwardly. “This is such romantic talk for a romantic evening.”

Dan just leaned against the counter and asked, “You’re growing cucumbers?”

“Well, Patricia is. She’s the groundkeeper. I help out sometimes, but I’m probably more of a hindrance than a help.”

“A cute hindrance though,” Dan just had to say it because he knew it would make Phil blush and he was already so addicted to that blush.

“I can get the sushi out of the refrigerator while you let Sam in.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Phil smiled at him. “I’ll be right back.”

As Phil walked off, Dan opened Phil’s refrigerator and looked inside. It was packed full of tray after tray of sushi. Like, probably enough for ten people…

“Jesus Christ, Phil,” Dan mumbled under his breath.

Just then, Dan heard Sam’s claws skittering on the wood floor, and was barely able to steady himself before the big sheepdog slid into his legs.

“Hello,” Dan ruffled Sam’s fur as he wagged his tail furiously. “I missed you too, big guy. Yes, I did. Pupper had the zoomies, yes he did, didn’t he?” Dan always became such a soft dork around dogs. He just couldn’t help.

On the other side of the kitchen, Phil was pouring kibble into a bowl for Sam, and the sound made Sam let out a bark and abandon Dan for his dinner.

Dan opened the refrigerator and pulled the trays of sushi rolls out of the refrigerator. “You really weren’t kidding about having bought every kind of sushi ever.”

“Yeah… I might have gone a little overboard.” Phil walked over to the sink and washed his hands.

Dan watched him for a moment, turning his attention from the abundance of sushi, to the soft domesticity of the water from the faucet running over Phil’s hands. There was just something soft about it, especially when he turned off the faucet and knew just where to reach for a linen dish towel to dry off his hands.

“I should probably wash up too,” Dan said, then walked over to the sink. He rinsed his hands then dried them with that same towel. It felt normal, domestic. He liked it. Maybe a little to much.Dan needed to get away from these thoughts so he continued with, “Maybe we should get out some plates and pick out what we want for our first round… our first round of twenty, if we’re going to eat it all.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be out on the street, handing out sushi to passersby come tomorrow.”

Dan snickered. “We should actually do that, can you imagine?” He tensed after he said it because he knew what he had just implied—that he would still be here in the morning.

Either Phil didn’t notice or didn’t care because he just replied with a small laugh and then fished around in one of the cabinets for two plates. He set them down on the counter. “What would you like to drink? I have water, of course, some soda. i have a bottle of wine that should go well with the sushi. I also have Ribena but that probably wouldn’t—“

“You seriously drink Ribena?”

“I know it’s a little childish maybe, but I like—“

“No, Phil. I _love_ Ribena. I have a whole cabinet full of it. It’s like an actual problem.”

Phil just looked at him, his eyes soft. “How are you even real?”

Dan felt that heat in his cheeks, that swoop in his stomach. He’d had the exact same thought about Phil earlier. Maybe they really, actually were on the same page with each other. That was… that was new.

“Maybe I’m not.” Dan shrugged. “Maybe I’m justa figment of your imagination.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Phil handed Dan one of the plates. “Now let’s eat.”

 

Maybe a half an hour into dinner and they weren’t getting anywhere near eating all of the ridiculous amount of sushi that Phil had bought, but they’d eaten more than they should have. Definitely a lot more than they should have. It was some fucking good sushi. Dan probably didn’t even want to imagine how much it had cost.

But at this point, Dan felt full—and maybe a slight bit tipsy. The wine bottle they’d gotten into was almost empty now. Everything seemed just a little bit funnier than it probably actually was—like the world had a sheen to it, a sparkle. Dan knew it was much more than just the wine. It was Phil. It was the two of them together. It had an energy, almost a magic, if he believed in that sort of thing.

Tucked away in this fairytale evening, that had only just begun, Dan was starting to wonder if maybe Phil was slowly changing his mind.


	28. Chapter 28

Dan helped bring their dishes to the sink, then he stood back, almost mesmerized, as Phil rinsed the plates and the wine glasses and sat them in the dishwasher. This was the prince—the future king of the country—and he seemed perfectly in his element bent slightly over the sink, rinsing small chunks of food down the disposal.

Objectively, it was kind of gross. It shouldn’t be causing this warm, swaying feeling between Dan’s ribs but it was.

Phil was… incredibly attractive. Lean arms, slender body, but so tall still—and broad shouldered. He was beautiful in an ethereal sort of way, unique, unusual. Dan felt like he could stare at him forever and never fully make sense of him.

“Do I have… do I have something on my face?” Phil asked, brow furrowed. He had a thumb on his chin like he was searching for some stray wasabi from the sushi to wipe away.

Dan smiled and shook his head. “No, sorry. I was just… you’re not bad to look at, you know?”

A little rose blush blossomed on Phil’s cheeks and he dipped his gaze down toward his socks—those adorable mismatched socks. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I like when you tell me that.”

Taking a step toward Phil, Dan smiled. “Good. Because I plan on doing it a lot.”

“I like looking at you too, you know.”

“Do you now?”

Phil looked up—some of that bashfulness had been replaced with something else. Something with a little heat to it. “I do. I scroll through your instagram more than I’m proud of.”

Dan’s eyes fluttered shut, just the thought of Phil wanting to look at him, seeking out opportunities to look made him feel vulnerable and nervous but in the best kind of way. The kind of way that made him want to feel it even more.

“I better take what I post there more serious then. Got to make sure it’s royal quality.” Dan laughed.

“All of it’s brilliant.” Phil let out a breath. “ _You’re_ brilliant.”

“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle— _mmph_ ”

Phil kissed Dan—a quick, warm surprising pressure—then backed away. Dan just grinned and took hold of Phil’s jumper, reeling him in for another kiss.

Phil’s mouth was so warm against his, his lips soft, fitting like a perfect match between his own. Dan slid his hands around Phil’s waste, gliding along his waste to the small of his back where Dan was able to bring Phil’s body in even closer to his own.

Why had they waited so long to kiss tonight? They should’ve been doing this since the moment Dan walked in the door.

When Phil’s mouth opened slightly, Dan traced his tongue over Phil’s bottom lip and then slipped into the heat of Phil’s mouth. Phil sucked lightly on the tip and Dan shivered.

“How am I ever supposed to get tired of that?” Dan said, out loud, not entirely on purpose.

“I guess I’m hoping you don’t.” Phil’s lips tipped into a cheeky grin. “Maybe we could go sit down on the sofa, watch a movie. Not to toot my own horn but I have a pretty good collection.”

Dan smiled, his hands slowly, reluctantly, dropping away from Phil. “Feel free to toot at will.”

“In that case, come here.” Phil stepped past Dan, but grabbed onto his hand as he moved and started pulling Dan along.

“Whoa, where are we going?”

“No spoilers,” Phil said. “I know you hate those.”

“You really need to stop watching my videos.”

“Nope. Not gonna happen,” Phil said, still guiding him along by the hand. “You can’t make me."

It took a moment for it to register, but when it did, it _really_ did. Phil was holding his hand and it felt… fantastic, _right._ His hand was a little chilly, but in a kind of soothing way and he was gripping on to Dan with just the right amount of firmness.Dan kept waiting for something with Phil to feel off. For something to make him think— _there it is, there’s what makes him wrong for me_ —and it just kept not happening.

Phil opened what had looked like a closet door but led to a set of steep wooden stairs.

“You’re taking me to your murder dungeon.” Dan let out an awkward laugh.

“I warned you I was a cannibal.” Phil dropped Dan’s hand and then flipped on the light.

“That’s true. I guess this is my fault.”

“It really is. It’s been your fault since the beginning.” Phil started down the stairs, but Dan didn’t follow. “You coming? I’m not really a—”

“What do you mean it’s been my fault?”

Phil shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing.”

“Well, I’m not coming down there until you tell me.”

Letting out a breath, Phil slipped his hands into his pocket. “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I don’t have a lot of experience. I try not to… but then there you were and I just… I threw my rule book out the window. Didn’t even think about it, honestly. I just knew—whatever it took—I had to see you again."

 _Fuck._ That as a lot of for Dan to digest, even though he understood it. That insatiable need just to see Phil again that had found its way under his skin and just stayed there. He didn’t know how to say that so Dan just said,

“It _was_ a really good pizza.”

Phil softly at Dan for a moment, then perked up a bit. “Now, come into my murder dungeon and help me pick a movie.”

Dan followed Phil down the stairs, holding onto the wall for support, then eventually got to the bottom, where his socked feet hit a concrete floor. It wasn’t a very big room—and the walls were exposed brick—but every inch of space that didn’t need to be used for moving around was filled with black shelves full of Blu-ray disks.

“You know you could just have this all digital, right?” Dan asked.

“But then I’d have to use my murder dungeon for actual murder.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”

Phil stepped closer to the shelves. “So, what do you want to watch? Comedy, Action, Horror. I’ve got it all.”

Dan moved deeper into the room too, though there wasn’t all that far to go. “I think we should watch something we’ve both seen before.”

Phil’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

“Just thinking that one or both of us might, at some point during the viewing of this film, be distracted… that’s all.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

Dan shrugged, but he was grinning. “You never know.”

They took a few moments to pick out a movie. Eventually, they settled on the first Avengers, then headed back upstairs to Phil’s living room.

“I’d offer you some microwave popcorn, but I’m pretty sure we’re both stuffed,” Phil said.

Dan laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think I could eat another bite.” He sat down on the sofa, while Phil bent over to put the disk in the player. As he did, Dan found himself looking, just staring at where Phil’s jeans were tight on his ass. His mouth went dry and a shiver of want ran through his body.

So far Dan had been so caught up in the soft, warm feelings he had for this man, that he’d almost forgotten that there was this too. This _heat,_ this absolute _sexual_ desire.

Phil turned back around, and seeing his face again, made Dan startled, like he’d been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“I’m going to turn the lights down,” Phil said. “So it can be like we’re in a cinema.”

Dan smiled and let out a small laugh through his nose. “Okay, mate.”

So Phil lowered the lights, though not completely, which Dan was thankful of. He was glad he could still see Phil, but he liked the nature of the dim light. How it felt romantic and comfortable. Like they were under just enough cover to push past any of their insecurities. At least, Dan hoped that would be the case.

As the movie started, Phil sat down on the sofa with Dan. He wasn’t right next to him, but close enough that it made Dan’s stomach do a little flip, close enough that he was within reach. At first, they both sat still and stayed in their own space, then slowly started drifting in towards each other. Dan was making careful, incremental movements and it seemed Phil was doing the same. Dan wasn’t even sure why they were so tentative. They’d kissed and touched and _almost…_ They’d shared their feelings, but it all felt so charged right now. The possibility, the potential. In this moment, it felt limitless.

One of those small movements ended in Phil’s toes on top of Dan’s toes. He drew in a sharp breath—from surprise, from elation—and he hoped that Phil didn’t misread it and pull away. He started to, though and Dan quickly pounced on Phil’s toes with his own.

Phil relaxed under his touch, and it was an amazing feeling—him just yielding like that, giving so softly—as Dan gently rubbed his toes over the top of Phil’s.

Dan felt Phil shift in even closer so it was just their feet touching, but their legs now too. Knee to thigh, they were pressed against each other. In another situation, it might be nothing at all, or it might not be this electric, this absolutely flammable, but tonight, right now, it was.

Phil slowly slid his hand down his leg, Dan watched out of the corner of his eye. His hand was just there—on his knee—a delicious invitation that Dan had no plans on resisting. He laid his hand on top of Phil’s and just explored. He traced his nails down Phil’s fingers and then drew slow circles on Phil’s palm. They were close enough that Dan could feel Phil shiver, could hear him breathe out low and dark.

Phil pulled his hand away and, for a brief moment, Dan thought he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t though, he didn’t think because Phil was pulling Dan’s hand to his cheek and nuzzling into it.

His face was warm, flushed, slightly rough from barely there stubble. God, it was sexy. The kind of sexy Dan was feeling through every last inch of his body, ending tight and hot between his legs.

It was so damn easy for Phil to work him up. He wondered if Phil was feeling the same about him. Wondering, _hoping._

Dan cupped Phil’s cheek, stroking gently with his fingers, then he couldn’t help it, didn’t want to help it. This man was gorgeous and kind and funny. He wore mismatched socks and did the dishes and hated cheese and couldn’t tell the difference between the Jonas Brothers—those and a million things Dan wasn’t privileged to know about yet, but he wanted to. Oh, how he wanted to.

So Dan kissed him, and started to learn. He learned the way Phil’s lips would seek to wrap around his bottom one. He learned how Phil’s hands would shake when Dan did something he liked. He learned how it took him a moment to find his footing, but eventually, he just sank into it, gave into it. Into Dan.

The movie was nothing but lights and sound in the background. It was more of an audience to them than they were to it. Dan was glad it was on, even if it was just a movie. He felt like something had to be witness to this moment, in this place, with Phil and with him, for it to be real. He needed it to be real.

Eventually the intensity between them was far to much for them to remain where they were and Dan found himself falling back on the sofa, lying his head against the headrest.

Then there was Phil. Moving with him. Hovering over him like mist. He was beautiful in the strange, inconsistent light from the telly. That skin, those eyes, those—

Phil’s glasses slipped off his nose and clunked on Dan’s face.

“Ow,” Dan said, shocked.

“Shit, sorry.” Phil sighed. “Way to ruin the mood, Phil.”

Dan just grinned as he picked Phil’s glasses up off his face and sat them on the side table behind him. Then, he turned back to Phil and surged up just enough to capture his mouth in a kiss.

Phil smiled into the kiss, and Dan smiled back. It was a little silly, their teeth touching, but it was fine. With them, silly seemed to be fine. Dan had never had that before, but he could definitely get used to it.

All it took was that kiss to forget all about the interruption. To sink back into the feeling of what was burning between them now—Dan laid back on the sofa, Phil over him, kissing him. Dan’s hands sliding up and down Phil’s back, smoothing over the softness of his jumper, eventually daring to slip beneath the fabric to feel Phil’s skin warm against his own.

Dan dipped away from Phil as he went in for another kiss and placed his mouth against Phil’s chin. When Phil let out a sigh and tilted his head back, Dan traced his lips underneath his chin and dragged them down Phil’s neck, tasting his sweet-smoky cologne. He ran his tongue over Phil’s Adam’s apple, then placed his lips over it and sucked.

“ _Dan.”_ Phil moaned, a dark, insistent sound that shook Dan like an earthquake. His name, said like that, on Phil’s lips? Devastating.

So Dan just did it again. _Bring on the destruction._

Phil slipped from how he was holding himself up and slotted between Dan’s legs. Dan felt it immediately, the bulge in Phil’s jeans pressed hard against his own.

Dan let out a small sound—a whimper, to be honest. He wasn’t especially proud of it but fuck it. _Oh, fuck it._ This was too good to care. Phil was too good to care.

Phil put fingers under Dan’s chin and guided him back up—lips to lips. A deep, wet kiss that made Dan open his mouth so Phil could fill it with his tongue. Phil pushed his hips down against Dan’s, an unmistakable thrust.

Dan did the only thing he could do, the only thing he _wanted_ to do, and pushed his hips back up into Phil’s. Phil—God bless him—just pressed back down.

The movie was still playing out its sounds and its flashes of light as they lay there kissing on Phil’s sofa, rutting against each other through their clothes. Dan was feeling hot, too hot, straining against his jeans, clothed from his jumper to his socks.

“Phil, Phil,” Dan managed between kisses. He lightly nudged Phil back. “Maybe we should…I mean we never finished that tour.”

“What? Now? You want to—” Phil sat back on Dan’s legs. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. Did I—”

“Phil, shush,” Dan said. “I just meant… you know, in the tour, you never showed me your…” _fuck,_ was he actually going to say this? “bedroom?”

“Oh,” Phil said, his brow furrowed like he was still processing. Then, his face smoothed out. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah, _oh._ ” Dan drew in a deep breath. “Is that something you want?”

Phil nodded, pretty vigorously, which made Dan smile. “Definitely. You?”

“Definitely.” Dan said. “I’d race you to the bedroom, but I have no idea where it is.”

Phil slid off Dan’s legs and stood up. He put his hand out. “If you pass me my glasses, the tour shall recommence promptly.”

Dan took Phil’s glasses off the nightstand and handed them to Phil. Phil slipped them on.

“Right this way, sir,” Phil said.

“I’m sir now?” Dan said as he stood up from Phil’s sofa.

“I figure it’s only fair to take turns.”

Dan really liked the sound of that.

 

Dan followed Phil upstairs, then the few steps down the hall to a black door. Phil pushed it open, then said, “Well, uh, here it is” as he stepped inside.

Dan walked in behind him.

_Damn._

It was immediately clear just how expensive this room was. It looked liked he stepped directly into design advertisement—dark walls, clean lines, rich and soft looking linens—though there were probably significantly more houseplants than would be suggested by any designer.

“I love it. I kind of feel like I walked outside, but it’s nice.”

Phil gave him a look. “I like houseplants.”

“I see that,” Dan said. “Do you talk to them like you do the ravens?”

“Only when I have something important to tell them.”

“You are incredibly strange,” Dan said, but he wondered if he was ever something important that Phil needed to tell his plants.

Phil looked down at his mismatched socks again. “I know.”

Dan took a step towards Phil. “ _And_ incredibly wonderful, with a significant amount of overlap.”

Phil was kissing him again. It seemed impossible that he’d jumped that distance that quickly, but he had. Phil was there and _kissing_ him, and it was still so hard to believe that Dan was dizzy with it.

Dizzy with Phil’s mouth on his. Dizzy with Phil pushing up Dan’s jumper to get his hands on his waist. Dizzy with the heavy ache in his cock, with the overwhelming feeling of Phil against him, obviously just as affected.

Phil was playing with the hem of Dan’s jumper, his face pressed against Dan’s neck so his words were a little mumbled. “You’re so beautiful. Can I… can I take this off?”

Dan shuddered, his throat tight. “God, yes.”

So, Phil pushed the jumper up Dans torso and Dan helped tugged it over his head and toss it to the side.

“Fuck. _Fuck._ I just…”

“Just what?” Dan’s voice was low.

“Want to touch you everywhere.”

“Then,” Dan grabbed Phil’s hand and laid it against him, on his ribs under his left nipple. “Touch me everywhere.”

Phil grunted and moved forward, bringing their mouths together hard. He skimmed his touch over Dan’s skin, like maybe he was counting the ribs, then he moved along the back side and touched at the dimples on Dan’s spine, the slid his hands back around and up, up, until his thumbs were rubbing over Dan’s nipples, making them hard.

“God, Dan.”

“What?”

“I’m so bloody turned on.”

Dan grinned and started pushing up on Phil’s jumper, slowly, then Phil raised his arms and Dan gently worked it up, letting Phil duck out of the neck. Dan dropped the jumper on the floor and just _looked._

Phil was gorgeous, pale, lean lines, with small pink nipples ringed lightly with dark hair that matched the trail of dark hair leading below his jeans. Dan was so hard at this point it was ridiculous.

He couldn’t help but reach down between his legs and rub. It was too much to resist.

Phil’s eyes dropped to watch Dan touch himself.

“Sorry,” Dan said.

“Don’t apologize for that, but, um, I’d rather do it for you.”

Dan’s eyes shut and he drew in a sharp breath. God, that made him so hard. “Come here,” he said, though he could hear his voice shaking.

Phil took a step forward, so there was basically no space between them. Then, Dan ran his fingers down Phil’s bare arm, just appreciating the feel of him. He took Phil’s hand in his and slowly brought it down. Dan let it go though, before Phil was touching him. He wanted Phil to make that final move.

Dan felt the press of Phil’s hand against him, between his legs, and somewhere there was a trapped voice in his head screaming— _Prince Philip is touching my dick. Through my jeans. But still!_ —but Dan didn’t care much about that voice right now. He cared about Phil. Phil was touching him and that was all that mattered.

Dan put his hand on Phil’s heart—he could feel the beat—then he moved his hand down over the waistband of Phil’s jeans to his bulge. His fucking _huge_ bulge. Dan had big hands and he felt like he could barely cup it all.

They just stood there, touching each other, sharing looks, occasionally bumping their noses together as they kissed.

“Can I…” Phil’s voice was so quiet. “Dan, can I see _more_ of you?”

“You can see all of me, if you want.”

Phil just smiled and sat down on the edge of his bed. He raised an eyebrow. “Go on, Daniel.”

“You’re a cheeky shit,” Dan said with a smile, shaking his head. But if _Prince Philip_ wanted a show he’d give him one.

He winked at Phil at unbuttoned his jeans, then shimmied him down his thighs and knees and over his socks. Without the restraint of the thicker fabric, Dan’s cock was stretching the cotton of his Calvin’s, so he was tenting them pretty intensely. It made him feel a little vulnerable, all of a sudden, being under Phil’s gaze like that, but then Phil just smiled and he still felt vulnerable. But that was okay. He could be vulnerable with Phil.

Phil reached out and stroked Dan’s inner thigh with the backs of his fingers. “Every time I touch you I keep thinking you’re going to disappear.”

“Why?” Dan asked. Phil touching him made him want to do the opposite of disappear.

“Because that’s what happens in my dreams.”

“You… dream about me?”

“Dan, you’re all I’ve dreamed about since we met.”

Dan moved over Phil on the bed, just like Phil had done to him on the sofa. Dan kissed him, and Phil moved back with him, kissing, and lying out on the bed. Now, Dan was the mist hovering over Phil.

And, God, he loved that. Looking down and seeing Phil look back up at him, like maybe he really was in a dream. But, if anyone should be in a dream, it was Dan.

Phil hooked his fingers under the waistband of Dan’s boxer-briefs and tugged on them.

“You want them off?” Dan whispered.

“You said I could see all of you, right?”

Dan kissed Phil’s lips and then, a quick peck on his nose, before sliding his pants off and kicking them to the side.

“Oh my God,” Phil said. “Oh my God.”

Dan’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I want you so much.”

“I want you too,” Dan practically growled as heat rushed over him in a wave. He dipped back down and kissed Phil. “Want yours off.”

Phil nodded and awkwardly crammed his hands between them trying to get to his jeans off. Dan giggled at him.

“ _Hey._ ”

“What?” Dan said. “I’m allowed to think you’re cute.”

“As long as you think I’m sexy too.”

The fact that Phil could think it was even a possibility that Dan didn’t find him sexy as fuck seemed impossible.

Dan tugged Phil’s jeans and pants off over his socks, then looked up at his cock. Long and red, leaking at the tip, straining up above tight balls.

“ _Fuck, fuck._ ” Dan grabbed the base of his cock. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Phil asked.

“What’s wrong?” Dan laughed again, a sharp thing of shock. “I almost came just from looking at you.”

“Really?”

“If you’re curious, that’s the answer to whether or not I find you sexy.” Dan slid his hands up Phil’s inner thigh and stopped just short of where he really wanted to be. “Can I?”

“Please.”

Dan drew in a deep breath to steady his own nerves, then he reached out and wrapped his hand around Phil’s cock. It felt warm and thick in his hand. It was a little wet and sticky from the pre-come, which helped to ease the movements as Dan started to slide his hand up and down.

He rubbed his thumb over Phil’s tip, coaxing a little more pre-come out and watched it dribbled down onto his foreskin. He wanted to lick it away.

“Can I?” Dan asked again.

Phil furrowed his brow. “You already are?”

“I meant,” Dan swallowed. “With my mouth.”

Phil’s eyes went wide. “You want to…”

“I really, really do.”

Phil nodded, biting his bottom lip. Dan blew out a shaky breath, then tucked his head down. He took a moment to be absolutely amazed that this was even happening and then he wrapped his lips around the tip of Phil’s cock.

Dan sucked—it tasted salty and like whatever soap Phil used. It was wonderful because it was Phil—and he dropped his mouth down a little more, wrapping his tongue around the shaft and then sliding up and over the slit.

“Oh God!” Phil moaned, grabbing at Dan’s hair. “Dan. Yes, God!”

This was one thing Dan knew how to do so he just let instinct and muscle memory take over. Dan let how much he wanted this man, and how much he wanted to show him that want, guide him through the nerves. Through that voice in his head going— _you’re blowing Prince Philip, you’re blowing_ —

“Dan, Dan, wait!” Phil was tugging on Dan’s hair, so Dan pulled off.

“You okay?”

Phil nodded, breathing heavily. “That feels... you’re really good at that.”

“Thanks... is that a problem?”

“I’m not ready to…”

“Come?”

Phil blushed. “Yeah.”

It was cute to see how shy Phil seemed to get about this. Dan understood being nervous. He was nervous too—he just showed those nerves differently.

“I want to kiss you again,” Phil said.

Dan wanted that too, with a want that seemed far too big for a single word. For two words. For a dozen. So he moved back over Phil’s body and kissed him.

They kissed and kissed. Their naked bodies, pressed against each other. Skin to skin.

Dan was aching hard—feeling his cock sliding against Phil’s. He was too close for all the thoughts he had in his head of working himself open and riding Phil, or eating Phil out and fucking him. Those were for another time.

Now, was for this. For sweat and sticky skin and sitting back to wrap a tight hand around both of their cocks.

Phil arched his back up off the bed, as Dan rubbed them together, in tight, quick strokes.

“How do you like it? Slower, faster,” Dan said, breathlessly. “Tell me. I want to know what makes you feel good.”

“You do. _You_.”

“ _Phil…_ ” Dan whined. It wasn’t fair that Phil could just say things like that and totally take dan apart.

“Slower,” Phil said with a gasp. “I want to feel everything.”

Dan could do slower. He could do feeling everything. He slowed his touches, made sure each movement was deliberate.

“Like that?” Dan asked, his voice low.

Suddenly, Dan was pushed off the top of Phil and onto the bed. For a moment, Dan thought Phil was going to move on top of him but he didn’t. He just kicked his way under the covers. Dan slid in too. They laid on their sides, facing each other.

Phil cupped Dan’s face and kissed him, pulling their bodies in together, tangling up their legs. Dan wrapped his hand around them both again—thank God he had such big hands—and started stroking them off together, cock to cock.

It was quiet. Just the sound of Dan’s hand moving on them both, the sound of their lips smacking together and pulling apart when they kissed, the sound of Phil’s heater whirring in the vents.

The bedding was soft beneath them, softer than anything Dan had felt, anything except maybe Phil’s legs threaded with his own.

They were watching each other’s eyes, watching in a way that made Dan feel exposed, like an old window, painted-shut, that had finally been opened again to let in the fresh air.

“Dan, I’m…” Phil whimpered.

Dan’s voiced matched his. “Close? Me too.” He sped up his hand, squeezing tighter.

“Oh God, fuck. Dan, Dan. Right there. I’m gonna—“ Phil gasped, his head titled back, eyes wide and beautiful. It was a look he’d never forget in his life. Then, Dan felt Phil shoot stripes of hot come all over his hand.

That was... that was all Dan needed, and he was there too. Letting that fresh air lift him off his feet and spin him around fast enough that he was flying.

And coming down, that was pretty incredible too. Because Phil was still right there with Dan, naked—but for his mismatched socks—and smiling at him.

“Stay the night?” Phil asked. No hesitance, none of the bashfulness that he’d had before.

Dan leaned his forehead against Phil’s. “Can I borrow a toothbrush?”

 

Phil opened up a brand new toothbrush for Dan and let him borrow his toothpaste. They also wiped themselves off with warm wash clothes and laughed about what a giant mess they made.

“I think we got it your sheets too,” Dan said.

They had—they’d gotten a lot on the sheets. It was a big sticky spot in the middle of the bed where they’d been lying.

“Should we just cover it with a towel?” Phil asked.

Dan gave him a look. “Oh, yeah, that’ll be comfortable.”

“Well… what do we do?”

“Do you have any other sheets?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where they are.”

So Dan and Phil ended up searching Phil’s house for sheets—apparently, he had a housekeeper than normally changed his sheets once a week—so Phil had no idea where they were kept.

Dan had just finished going through an upstairs closet when Phil called out, “Oh my God. You know what we can do?”

“What?”

“Sleep in the guest room.”

Dan lightly punched Phil’s arm. “You’ve had a guest room this whole time and you’re telling me now! We searched half your house for sheet. I found your butt cream.”

Phil’s eyes narrowed and his bottom lip pouted out. “I told you it wasn’t butt cream.”

“Sure it wasn’t.”

Phil glared at him. “Oh, shut it.”

“As you wish, your royal highness.” Dan curtsied and Phil just rolled his eyes.

 

They ended up in Phil’s guest room—a smaller room than Phil’s with lighter walls and no houseplants, but otherwise very similar. They fell asleep together there and when Dan woke up to the morning light streaming in through the window, Phil was still asleep, his head pressed to Dan’s chest. He was snoring, and Dan just buried his nose in Phil’s messy hair.

In this moment, there was only one thought in Dan’s mind:

_I’m in love with this man. I’m in love with the future king of England._


	29. Chapter 29

“Sorry I didn’t make it home last night,” Dan said as he walked through the front door of his flat.

There wasn’t an answer. There wasn’t any sound in the house at all. Not the telly, not the sound of footsteps or even the dull rush of water in the shower.

“Nick!” Dan called out again. “You still here?”

Still no answer.

When Dan walked into his kitchen, he saw a sticky note on the countertop next to the spare key he’d given Nick. He stepped closer to read it.

_Thanks for letting me crash._

_Nick._

Dan let out a sigh. He knew when he’d chosen to stay the night with Phil that Nick might not still be here the next day. He’d reasoned that they’d already said their goodbyes—and it wasn’t _goodbye_ anyway. Just _until next time,_ like it had always been, right? So why did it feel so different to Dan suddenly? Why did he feel so guilty about going on that date with Phil and staying all night?

Maybe he felt so guilty because he didn’t regret it. Because he knew he’d do it again. It was one of the best nights of his life and, honestly, he didn’t want to be in this flat right now. He wanted to be back at Phil’s cottage, wanted to be cuddled up on Phil’s sofa, playing video games. Then, hopefully, abandoning those video games to make out and have sex.

_Sex._

He’d had sex with Phil, and it had been good sex. No, good didn’t cover it. It was great sex. Best he’d ever had. Who could blame him if he was ready for round two? They’d both wanted round two this morning, but they’d accidentally slept in and Phil had had a morning event to get to.

Still, it had been nice, that moment when they kissed in Phil’s doorway before seeing each other off. It was the most casual kiss they’d had yet. Soft and gentle, but still so full of all the feelings that he’d been feeling for this man. Like love. _Love._ Yeah, that was going to be a problem.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe they could just keep on having this, despite the world around them and Phil’s position. Dan worked with Phil sometimes, maybe he could just do it more and everyone would assume that they were just working together. Or maybe they could look just like friends to the world. Like Nick and Dan did to everyone but the shippers… though they really were just friends.

God, Dan did actually feel bad about missing Nick’s send off. His flat felt quiet and empty without him.

He didn’t know when Nick would get the message because he was probably thousands of feet into the air at the moment, but hopefully he’d get Dan’s message when he landed.

Dan: Hey! i’m so so sorry i wasn’t here last night. i know you told me to go on the date though so :P technically it’s your fault.(and seriously thank you. it was…. a night to remember if you know what i mean haha) anyway, i hope you had a safe flight. send me your buffalo wing recipe sometime. i’m going to miss your cooking.

As he expected, there was no reply so Dan decided to go upstairs and take a shower, even though that silly fanboy part of him he kept trying to destroy was going— _and what? Wash Prince Philip off you?_ One of these days, he’d silence that fucking dumbass forever, and Dan wouldn’t even have to hear his stupid muttering in the back of his mind.

Dan stripped off his clothes. The same ones he’d taken off for Phil last night and tossed them in the corner. Then, he hopped into the shower and let himself relax under the hot spray. When he felt the water start to get cold, Dan finally dragged himself out of the shower and toweled off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into his bedroom.

Dan yawned and flopped down onto his bed. Something sharp poked him in the back.

He hissed. “Ow, fuck. What the fuck?” He rolled away from the pain and stood up off the bed. He squinted as he looked down at his duvet cover, but didn’t see anything.

Maybe he’d gotten bit by a spider. The thought made him shiver, but then he noticed a small glint in the folds of the fabric. Dan swiped his hand over the spot and felt something cool and hard roll underneath his palm. He finally got his fingers on it, then held it close to his nose to get a better look at it.

It was an earring. A small princess-cut diamond stud. Not one of his own.

He blinked. _That’s strange…_

Dan was staring down at it when his cell phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans.He set the earring on his nightstand, then walked over to get his phone.

Phil: sorry, i just already miss you

Dan smiled, just letting himself feel that warm flutter between his ribs. He didn’t fight it at all.

Dan: i’d tease you for that, but i’d be hypocrite

Phil: Aww, you miss me already?? how embarrassing. :P

Dan: shouldn’t you be busy prince-ing right now? if not, i’m v mad at you for making me leave your bed

Phil: Yeah lol my assistant is going to fight me if I don’t get off my phone, but I just had to talk to you.

Dan: it sounds like you might fancy me, sir

Phil: it’s possible ;)

Phil sent Dan a few more texts that morning, but they didn’t come often or regularly. Dan knew it was because he had to work. Work… that was probably something Dan should do too. He had a meeting with Emily and his management group in about two hours.

 

 

Dan had accidentally fallen asleep and ended up running late for his management meeting. He came sliding into the conference room after the meeting had already begun.

“Glad you decided to join us, Dan,” Emily said as he sat down in a seat beside her.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “What’d I miss?”

Emily sighed. “I’ll catch you up after, alright?”

He nodded, then settled further down into his seat to listen to the meeting.

Emily was sat beside him, her hair pulled back into a bun and her eyes focused on one of the other clients speaking at the table. She sipped the Starbucks she’d brought in to the meeting and, from what Dan knew about Emily, he could only assume it was straight black coffee—whatever was the cheapest. He’d been to Starbucks with her enough times to know that’s precisely how she ordered it—“ _Venti black coffee?” “What kind, ma’am?” “Whatever’s cheapest.”_

Nick would go on to cite taking Emily to Starbucks and hearing her order like this as one of the moments he knew he was falling in love with her. Dan hadn’t understood it at the time. It was a coffee order, and one he’d heard Emily make at least a dozen times before Nick even entered the picture. It had never resulted in a desire to kiss her or anything like that. But now, he was starting to get it. Not about Emily, of course, but the way feelings, attraction, love, whatever, could turn the mundane into something brilliant.

Like Phil and his mismatched socks, maybe.

If Emily wore two different pairs of socks it would make him question if she’d remembered to do her laundry, it wouldn’t make him feel like he was feeling now at the thought of Phil’s silly socks. Warm, soft, floaty.

She took another sip of her coffee, then lifted a pen to scribble down some notes. Emily was addicted to pen and paper—another thing Nick had found endearing that Dan had simply found impractical and maybe a little wasteful.

As she was writing, Emily leaned her head down to the left and rubbed her ear on her shoulder. It wasn’t an obvious movement. Dan only noticed it because he was sat right beside her. That, and she did it a second time. And a third.

It was enough that it was actually really distracting from the conversation about how they could improve their social media interactions that Dan cared so much about.

“Goddammit,” Emily muttered under her breath as she tugged on her earlobe.

Dan leaned over and whispered, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I lost one of my good earrings,” she whispered back.

“What was that, Emily?” Emily’s boss, Karen, asked.

“Nothing… just… sorry, I’m fine.”

That was how long it took. Those two sentences for it to hit Dan like a brick. His eyes went wide and he bit back a gasp by biting into his cheek.

Emily had lost an earring. A… nice earring. Dan had found an earring that wasn’t his. In his bed.

_What does that… oh God…_

Had Emily been in his flat, in his _bed,_ when Dan was at Phil’s… and Nick was in Dan’s flat? He knew the obvious conclusion, but he was taking a long time to get there because he really fucking didn’t want to get there.

Dan just sat there, stunned, his hands curled into his fists in his lap, fingers pressing into the palms of his hands. He could not believe she would… after everything… he could not fucking believe.

The rest of the meeting was more like white noise until they finally dismissed everyone and people started filing out of the room. Emily started to go and Dan put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hold up,” he said, feeling the tightness in his voice. “I need to talk to you alone for a sec.” He dropped his hand off Emily’s shoulder and then shut the door to conference room so they were alone.

Emily’s brow was drawn together and she was looking at Dan with a look he knew well—confusion. She was often confused at Dan’s behavior. They realized early on that this was because they saw the world in fundamentally different ways. A lot of people thought it wouldn’t be a good dynamic but the push and pull had always kept them both accountable. Still, right now, Dan wasn’t feeling the balance, just the strain.

“Dan…” she said, sounding wary. “What’s up?”

“Turn your head for me.”

That look of confusion grew stronger. “Dan?”

“Can you just like look over there?” He pointed at the wall.

“Why the hell do you want me to…” but she did look just where Dan had pointed and, sure enough, there it was. The matching counterpart to the earring Dan had found in his bed was shimmering in Emily’s right ear.

This… well, this was an absolute disaster.

“What is it?” Emily sounded exasperated. “I don’t see a damn thing over th—“

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dan snapped.

Emily’s gaze snapped back to his and she drew her shoulders back. “Excuse me.”

“Your missing earring. I found it this morning… in my _bed_.”

Her face fell. So did her shoulders. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Dan shook his head. “That’s all you have to say for yourself.”

“Yes, it is. Because my sex life is none of your damn business.”

Dan knew they’d had sex. He wasn’t a fucking idiot. He didn’t think they’d just platonically cuddled in his bed. But still, hearing Emily say it like that made the heat of anger roll through him. “It is my fucking business when you fuck my best friend in _my_ bed, and when I’m the one he turns to when you obliterate his heart. You know how much he loves you, Emily. He was trying to… why the hell would you just rip that wound open again?”

“Dan—”

“No, it’s just bullshit, Emily. It’s all bullshit. It’s been bullshit since the beginning.”

“What are you on about?”

“You and Nick, Em. You knew who he was when you started dating him. You knew he was fucking _Nick Jonas_ and you still let him believe he had a chance with you. You let him build a life with you in his head. When you knew, you _knew,_ that’s all it could ever be.” Dan didn’t know why he was blowing up on Emily now. Of course, her shagging Nick had something to do with it. But at the worst of their breakup, he’d never said all the things he’d wanted to say to her, he’d never demolished the professional lines like this.

“That’s not fair.” Emily was starting to get angry, starting to break apart at her normally clean, sharp seams.

“What you did to him… that’s what wasn’t fair.”

“Goddammit, Dan. You’re so fucking clueless… you think you know what happened between Nick and me? You think it’s so simple? I’m the bitch and he’s the saint? Well, fuck you, Dan. Fuck you!”

“Em… no.” Dan let out a breath and lowered his voice. “No, you don’t get to turn this on me. He is still in love with you, you know that, and you slept with him. How is that okay?”

“He’s a grown man, Dan. You need to stop thinking it’s your job to protect him.”

But it was. Not a job, anyway, but like a responsibility. He took care of Nick and Nick took care of him. That was what they did for each other.

“I just… I don’t understand it. You couldn’t just, I don’t know, find a tinder hookup? You had to fuck Nick in my bed the night before he goes back to New York. It doesn’t make sense, Em. It doesn’t make any goddamn—”

“I’m in love with him, you bloody idiot!” Emily shouted. “I slept with him because I am in love with him. And you’d have no way of knowing this, but when you’re in love with someone, sometimes you do some stupid fucked up shit that you can’t take back.”

Dan just stood there, looking at her. She had no idea about Prince Philip, about Dan’s feelings for him. Of course she didn’t. Nobody did but Dan. At least, not the full extent of it.

“You’re… you’re in love with him again?”

Emily sighed. “I never stopped being in love with him. I… I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

“You didn’t. God, Emily, you didn’t say that to him, did you?”

Emily shook her head, looking down at her shiny, pointy-toed black pumps. “Of course not.”

“Good,” Dan said. “That would kill him.” He walked past Emily and put his hand on the door. “I’ll bring your earring back the next time, I see you.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

Dan didn’t reply. He just pushed open the conference room door and left. As he was walking out of the building, Dan pulled out his phone. There was a text message from Phil.

Phil: So… you up for another Stop, Speak, Support event? Kinda last minute. Sorry.

Dan: def, just tell me when.

Phil: yeet, dynamic duo back at it again.

Dan smiled at that—Phil could make him smile through almost anything—but after everything he’d just realized with Em, Dan was feeling exceptionally worried for Nick so he decided to shoot Nick another text just to make sure he was alright.

Dan: hey mate, just checking on you. text me when you land you so I know you didn’t like disappear in the bermuda triangle or something.

After that, Dan took the train home. He re-watched six episodes of _Black Mirror_ , hoping Nick would text him at some point. Nothing. Not even when Dan was getting ready to go to bed, not even when he woke up the next day. Nothing. Not even the tiny word “read” underneath Dan’s text. Just “delivered”. Nothing but “delivered”.


	30. Chapter 30

Dan had chewed his fingernails down to stubs. It wasn’t that Dan was normally a worrier, but it had been two days and things had been strange with Nick for a while. Dan had had his head buried in the Prince Philip sands too deep to realize before, but what had gone down with Emily and Nick (Sex, that is. He probably shouldn’t be so put off of calling it what it was) had made Dan look at little closer at the things he’d just kind of let slip past him in regards to his friend’s recent strange behavior—Nick coming for a visit, then staying for months, moving in… sleeping in Dan’s bed, until he didn’t. Breaking up with his model girlfriend. The unexplained fight with Joe. Spending all that time getting a long term visa just to change his mind and go back to New York for reasons that didn’t make any sense to Dan.

 _They don’t have to make sense to you._ This was the voice in his head, though he didn’t particularly want to hear from it at the moment, but it was the one he’d grown to count on, the one that had whispered when he was younger, but had learned to speak up so he could really hear it. It was the voice in his head that was willing to grow, to listen to the people around him. To accept other experiences, even when he didn’t fully understand them. Years ago, it was finding this voice and listening to it that had helped him come out, that had helped him drown the echoes of his childhood bullies and the currents shouts of his adulthood detractors. It had taken therapy and medication to help him listen to that voice, to trust it, to know that it came from him, from his own innate goodness that he often had trouble accepting even now. It was easier to pretend he had no soul, to pretend if you cut him open you’d find only darkness. It was scary to let a word that often wanted to dig its claws into you that, if they succeeded, they’d tear you apart like anyone else.

He wanted to say that accepting Nick’s reasons was what he’d tried to do when he hadn’t questioned Nick harder about what was going on, but that wouldn’t be honest. He didn’t do it because he’d had his head up in those Prince Philip clouds and he hadn’t been willing to let anything take him down. Up out of the sands or down out of the clouds, one or the other. Either way, Dan now realized he’d clung to it and the consequence had been this—very sore fingertips and a best friend that had seemingly ghosted him.

Dan’s phone went off. He tensed every time it did and he looked at the screen hoping it was Nick. It wasn’t. It was Phil, which he’d never call a disappointment, though it didn’t tamper down the worry in his chest over Nick.

Phil: Did you hear from Nick yet?

Maybe Dan shouldn’t have confided in his worries about Nick with Phil, but it was just easy to talk to him—and they shared with each other. It was just what they did. Phil had been telling him about some issues he was having a second cousin that was trying to drag them into politics, which was definitely not allowed, and Dan was telling Phil about this shit with Nick. Nothing too much, nothing he really felt was betraying Nick’s confidence. Just that he was worried. That he hadn’t heard from Nick and Dan was worried he was really upset about Emily.

Dan: no :( i called him again today. no answer.

Phil: Maybe this is overstepping or weird I don’t know but maybe you could talk to one of this brothers if you have their number

Dan had been mulling over contacting Joe to see if he’d at least heard from Nick. Maybe it was just Dan he wasn’t taking to. Maybe Dan had done something supremely shitty without realizing it and wrecked their friendship. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had a friends that decided to move to greener pastures. It wouldn’t even be the third time. People grew bored of him eventually. He was used to that at this point in his life.

Though he had thought his friendship with Nick was different…

Dan: i’m thinking about it. even if he’s pissed at me for some reason i don’t know at least i’ll know he’s alright but i don’t want to like stir up drama if there isn’t anything u know?

Phil: I definitely know. when Martyn first got sick, there were times where, well, he’d just act really strange. It’s hard to explain but he hated when I’d ask Cornelia about him, if he was alright you know?

Dan: i’m so sorry phil it sucks

Phil: He’d always just say “of course i’m not alright, Philly. I’m dying.” I hated when he said that, even though I knew it was true. I hated that it was true.

Dan: i hope this isn’t weird to say, but like i really wish i could hold you right now.

Dan tensed after sending the text, holding his breath. There was still just a bit of fear that he’d push to far at some point and freak Phil out.

Phil: Not at all. I wish you could too. I wish we could hold each other. We can, I mean, it’s short notice, so I understand if you’re busy, but if you want to come over tonight. This fancy dinner thing I was scheduled for got cancelled.

That text just made Dan go warm all over. He absolutely, one hundred percent wanted to go over to Phil’s right now.

Phil: You can bring an overnight bag this time if you want ;)

Dan: that’s very presumptuous, sir ;)

Phil: I can have Maxwell chaperone if you want, Daniel

Dan: oh, i think we’ve tortured the poor man enough, haven’t we? give him the night off.

Dan sighed softly as he stood from where he’d been sat on the edge of his bed to pack a few things to stay overnight at Phil’s again. _Again._ If it wasn’t wild enough that he’d had one incredible night with the prince at Kensington Palace, he was about to have second one.

In the middle of tossing his Calvin’s into his overnight bag, his phone rang. He looked at the screen, expecting Phil. It wasn’t Phil. It was Nick.

His heart burst into a full-on pound as he rushed to pick up the call.

“Hello?” Dan’s voice cracked a little. He knew that Nick could hear it.

“Hey, man,” Nick said, casually. _What the hell?_

“Where have you been?”

“Just busy. Meetings about that new movie and shit. Got in some time at the studio.”

Dan started to pace. “Did you not get my messages?”

“Oh yeah, dude. Sorry. I just didn’t have a chance to read them.”

In two days? Nick hadn’t had a chance to read Dan’s messages in two days? It wasn’t like they hadn’t gone two days between responding to texts before, but this was different. Why it was different, Dan wasn’t completely certain. But it was. It was different

“I was just worried about you.”

Nick laughed and something about that set Dan absolutely on edge.

“Why are you laughing?” Dan asked.

There was a pause and Nick’s voice shifted just a little. He sounded more like himself, but barely. “Why were you worried about me?”

“I… I talked to Emily.”

A long pause. A really goddamn long pause. “Oh…”

“You two really were meant for each other, weren’t you?” Dan muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s exactly what she had to say about it too. _Oh._ ”

“How’d you even find out?”

Now, Dan was just pissed. “How’d I even… you shagged her in my bed, mate. And didn’t wash the sheets apparently because I found one of her fucking earrings.”

“Shit, bro. Sorry. That was kind of a dick move, huh?”

 _Bro?_ Nick didn’t call him bro. Not unironically. Now Dan was absolutely something was up.

“Why did you—”

“I just forgot. Do you want me to buy you new sheets. I’ll buy you new—”

“I don’t give a bloody fuck about the sheets.” _I give a bloody fuck about you._ “I meant why’d you have sex with Emily? You know it’s not a road you can’t go down.”

Nick’s voice got quieter again. “What difference does it make to you?”

“I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again.”

Another laugh, this one just sounded sad. “Well, tough shit.”

“ _Nick._ ”

“Don’t Nick me. You fuck who you want so I fuck who I want, alright?”

“Mate, what the fuck are you even on about?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I have to go. I have a meeting about that movie and a dinner date after that. I’ll send you some new sheets, alright?”

“Nick, wait…” but Nick didn’t wait. He’d already hung up.

“God-fucking-shit,” Dan shouted and tossed his phone down hard on his bed. He still hadn’t changed those sheets.

Fuming, he pulled them off and tossed them into the corner of his room. He kicked them a few times too for good measure. Then, Dan let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

He could see the screen of his phone blinking through the piled up sheets. Dan groaned and knelt down to dig through the fabric, hoping all this thoughtless kicking hadn’t cracked the glass. When he finally got a hold of the phone, he realized the screen was fine and the message was from Phil.

Phil: When do you think you’ll be over?

Dan: i’ll head out in like five, if that works? but fair warning, i’m in a shit mood.

Phil: Oh no :(( Why?

Dan: nick called. long story. i’m going to be rubbish company so i’ll understand if you want me to come over another night

Phil: Don’t be silly. I want you here. Rubbish or otherwise.

 


	31. Chapter 31

It had started to rain on the way to Kensington Palace, not a drizzling either—a proper British downpour. By the time Dan had walked there from the train, he’d already gotten soaked head to toe. Now, he was just stood in the downpour, rapping his knuckles on Phil’s front door, desperately wishing Phil hadn't actually given Maxwell the night off as he’d likely have an umbrella.

A few moments and few gallons of rainwater later, Phil opened the door.

“You’re here,” Phil said, then gave Dan the once over. “You’re soaked.”

“Hey.”

Phil stepped out of the way. “Well, come in. Please.”

Dan managed a small smile and stepped inside Phil’s house. It smelled as nice and cozy and expensive as it had the last time he’d been in here which was… actually not that long ago, though it felt like a long time. Like time worked differently when he wasn’t with Phil, slower. Being with Phil was standing on another planet, spinning around another sun entirely. Being without him was slow motion.

“Here, let me take your coat,” Phil said as helped Dan out of his soaked overcoat. “I’ll put a pot of coffee on. Help you warm up.”

“Thanks,” Dan said.

“Toss your bag anywhere. We can bring it upstairs later. You can take your shoes off too. You know where they go, right?”

Dan nodded. He did know where to put his shoes here. There was something really nice and comforting about that.

After kicking his shoes off into the closet, Dan walked into the kitchen where Phil was fussing around with the coffee pot like he’d never used it before. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Do you normally have a butler or someone that does that for you?”

“No, uh, I’m sure I can…” Phil sat the glass pot down on the counter and sighed, looking over at Dan. “It’s just that normally drink instant coffee.”

“You drink _instant_ coffee?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I don't know. I just assumed you were getting your coffee from like, I don’t know, underground vaults in Greece run by nuns that grind the beans with their teeth.”

“No just Waitrose, I think.”

“Waitrose?” Dan said with a cheeky grin. “You really are a posh little shit.”

Phil pouted as he grabbed the glass pot of the counter and pushed it into Dan’s hand. “Just help me.”

Dan rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, sir.”

 

Once coffee was finally dripping into the pot, Phil hopped up onto the counter and looked at Dan.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Phil asked.

“Talk about what?”

“You talked to Nick, didn’t you?”

Dan sighed. “Yeah, what about it?”

“ _And_ then you were all grumpy after.” Phil gently kicked Dan’s knee with one of his socked feet—this one was giraffe patterned, the other zebra. “And said you were going to be rubbish company.”

“Am I not being rubbish enough? Because I can be more rubbish?”

Phil just gave Dan another soft kick. How could a soft touch like that—so gently, so silly, still be so damn electric?

 _Love, you dolt. You’re in love with him remember?_ He hadn't forgotten. He couldn’t.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Phil said.

Dan just let out a breath and looked down at Phil’s floor. “I just don’t understand him that’s all. It’s like I did something to piss him off, but I have no idea what it is.”

“He said he was mad at you?”

Dan shook his head. “No. He’s just acting really different.”

“Because of his ex-girlfriend? Because he slept with her, I mean.”

“I don’t think so… not entirely at least. I mean the weird behavior started before that. Like him sleeping with Emily… after it happened, I thought it was why he was behaving odd, right? And then I talked to him on the phone and it just feels like…”

“Like sleeping with her was a part of the weird behavior not the cause of it?”

Dan sighed again. “Yeah.”

“So what caused it?”

“Well that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Dan said quietly, then looked over at the coffee pot. “It’s almost done.”

“I’ll get down some mugs for us. I can manage that at least.” Phil slipped off the counter and walked over to a black cabinet and opened it. He pulled out two mugs. “One Direction or Disney World, your choice.”

“One Direction obviously.”

Phil poured the coffee. “Sugar and cream?”

“Black is fine.”

“I’ll never understand people like you,” Phil said and then proceeded to pour a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar into his own like he was trying to make a point.

Dan took a sip of the coffee. “I do like a sweet coffee, you know. I’m just in a dark and bitter mood tonight.”

Phil sipped his own sweet coffee and then licked a drip off his lips. “Right, well, we _were_ in the middle of solving your mystery.”

“My mystery?”

“Yes, the Mystery of the Strange Behavior of the Youngest Jonas Brother.”

Dan laughed. “No.”

Phil furrowed his brow. “No, what?”

“Nick’s not the youngest brother.”

“Yes, he is! I looked it up.”

“Nick was the youngest in the band, but he’s got a younger brother—Frankie.”

“That’s a technicality,” Phil said.

“Whatever you say.” Dan took another drink and then looked down at the young faces splashed across the ceramic. “Why do you have a One Direction mug anyway?”

Phil’s face fell and he looked down into his own Disney World cup. “It was… a gift.”

“Harry Styles face on a cup…for the man who has everything, I guess,” Dan said. “Who gave it to you? Another prime minister?”

“No. Just someone I knew at uni. I kind of forgot about that until right now. I should probably get rid of it actually. It’s old.” Phil sat his mug down on the counter. “Throw it out when you’re done.”

Dan blinked, confused. “Oh… okay…”

“So, anyway,” Phil put his smile back on. “What do you think is up with Nick? When did his behavior start to change?”

“I don’t know. Some time after he came out here to visit.”

“I thought he lived here?” Phil asked. “With you?”

“He’d come here to visit, but then decided to stay. He broke up with this girl he was seeing too. Not sure if he did that before or after he came here though. Didn’t tell me until a bit after though.”

“But when did he start… you said he seemed angry with you?”

Dan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I don’t…” Dan hadn’t really thought about it. About when exactly that started. It seemed like maybe it was… “The pap guy?”

“The guy whose camera you broke?”

Dan nodded. “Nick got really mad at Joe that night and I still don’t know why… but wait, maybe it wasn’t the pap.” Maybe, like Emily, he was just an expression of whatever reason Dan had yet to figure out. “Maybe it _was_ Joe. Whatever Joe said to him.”

“Can you ask him about what they talked about?”

Dan shook his head. “I don’t think so. Besides, there was also… no that was just… you know, it happens.”

“What do you mean? What happens?”

“That day he walked in on me when we were… he freaked out a little. More than I let on that he did. I don’t know. He was pissed, started sleeping on the sofa, which is totally not like him. He’s not usually weird about sex stuff. I mean he’ll tease me about shit, like the anal beads.”

“ _Anal beads_?” Phil’s voice cracked.

Dan cringed. “Yeah, that’s a long story for another time. I need to learn to read direction that’s all. Anyway, like, I don’t know. He’d usually just take the piss.”

Phil seemed to consider this for a moment and then asked, “He was… sleeping in _your_ bed before, right?”

Dan nodded. Same place Nick banged Emily. “I’ve only got the one.”

Phil stepped forward, creasing his brow. He wasn’t looking at Dan. “You…” his voice was quiet, “you realize Nick has feelings for you, right?”

Dan startled back, nearly spilling his coffee. “No he doesn’t.”

With a heavy breath, Phil looked at him. “Dan… come on.”

“Nick is straight.”

“Is he?”

Dan sat down his coffee on the counter, hard enough that some of it spilt. He wasn't sure what to do with his confusing rush of heat that rolled through him. How could Phil just… how could he just _say_ something like that? “You think you know him better than I do? He’s _my_ best friend. I _know_ him… don’t you think I’d know if he was… you don’t know him, Phil. _I_ know him.” Dan could hear himself start to sound frantic and yet he couldn't shut himself up. “He has a little brother named Frankie, right? And his older brothers are Joe and Kevin. His mother is named Denise and she once sewed a button back on a shirt for me. It’s the wrong color thread. I still have it. He was born in Texas, raised in New Jersey, and he has been writing songs since he was a little kid. Denise showed me some of them. They were terrible, but that’s not… they were scribbled in crayon… on construction paper.” Dan’s lips curled into an unwanted smile and he shook it away. “It doesn’t matter—look, he’s my best friend. He’s not in love with me.”

Phil took a step back, his jaw set, his shoulders squared back. “Are _you_ in love with him? Because that was one hell of a speech about a friend.” He sounded angry… or afraid. Clearly, Dan couldn't tell the difference anymore.

“No. Christ, Phil. How many times do I have to tell you? I am not in love with Nick.” Dan stepped forward. He put one hand on Phil’s shoulder and the other on the side of his neck. _I’m in love with you._ “He is not in love with me.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Phil said. “At least about the second part.”

“I’m not. Nick does _not_ have feelings for me.” _He can't._

Phil let out a breath. Dan could smell the sweet coffee. Despite everything, he still wanted to lick it out of the air.

“How could he not?” Phil whispered.

Dan shivered, “ _Phil…_ ”

Phil slid his hands down Dan’s chest, his bottom lip trembling. He leaned in, nudged his nose against Dan’s and that draw was strong again, impossible to deny. He didn’t want to deny it and he didn’t it as Phil kissed him—long, deep, wet.

Phil pulled away just enough to speak. Their noses were still touching and Phil was still latched onto Dan’s shirt. “How could he not want you? Every night he was lying in bed with you, how could he not think about reaching over and touching you? How could he see you… how could he come home to you every day and not want to fit his mouth against your mouth?” Phil kissed Dan again, and Dan took Phil's tongue into his mouth. “How could he not want to take your clothes off?” Fingers were sliding underneath the hem of Dan’s shirt, warming the sensitive skin below his navel. “How could he not want to just drop to his knees…” Phil tugged at the button of Dan’s jeans.

Suddenly, Phil dropped his hand away and backed off. He turned to face the other direction, grabbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

Dan was wide-eyed, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have said any of that. God, what’s wrong with me?” He turned back around. “I’m a bloody mess. Surprise.”

“Well, i’m a bloody mess too, if you haven’t noticed.”

“You came over here because you had a shitty night and I was supposed to cheer you up and instead. I made you make coffee, told you your best friend was in love with you and then felt you up while spouting off some of the weirdest dirty talk in fucking history of—”

“I support you feeling me up, you know?” Dan said with an awkward smile. “But maybe don't do it while talking about how my best friend wants to fuck me, yeah?”

Phil nodded. “I really do think he might have feelings for you.”

Nick didn’t… he couldn’t. Dan wouldn't believe it. There was nothing there to believe. “You know what? I think I know what it is. It’s you.”

Phil blinked. “Nick’s in love with _me_?”

Dan grabbed the tea towel off the counter and threw it at Phil, who caught it but just barely. “No, you idiot. You… you and me. We remind him of him and Emily. When things first started for them. He was Nick Jonas and she was just Emily, and you’re Prince Philip and I’m just Dan. It’s bringing shit back for him. So he needs space from me… us. And I should give it to him.”

“You’re not _just_ Dan…” Phil let out a breath. “And don’t call me Prince Philip. It makes me sound like a ninety year old man.”

“I think it makes you sound like a Disney prince.” Dan’s lips twitched up into a smile. “I can still call you, sir, right?”

“Yes, Daniel.” Phil playfully rolled his eyes.

“Can I…” Dan quieted his voice, made it breathier, then looked right at Phil as he bit his bottom lip. “Can I call you sir you while you fuck me?”

Phil gasped and went even paler if that was possible. “Dan, I… Oh God.”

Dan just started to laugh. “Just getting you back for earlier.” He walked past Phil. “Can we play some video games or something?”

“So… to clarify, you _won’t_ call me ‘sir’ while we fuck?”

“Oi, just shut your mouth and come in here and let me kick your ass at something. Do you have Super Smash Bros? I feel like a light amount of cartoon violence.”

Phil just shook his head, then smiled and walked with Dan to his living room.

This was just what he needed. The bright lights and loud sounds of a video game. The excitement, the energy of competition to drown out any other thoughts in his head. He needed Phil cheating by leaning in to kiss him for a distraction. He needed two more cups of coffee and Phil’s feet on his lap and switching games to Overcooked and starting at the beginning and playing through with him. Dan needed not even paying attention to his phone, and Phil not paying attention to his either. He needed Phil’s laugh and Phil’s voice and the feel of him just near because there had been a lot of talk about feelings, about love tonight but not the right kind, not the kind that said “Phil, it's you. It’s you I’m in love with.”

Because he couldn’t talk about that, could he? He’d seen how it had gone down with Nick and Emily. And if it was hard for Nick to look at him and Phil because it felt like staring in a mirror, then what the hell would it feel like to Dan when he finally let himself look back?


	32. Chapter 32

They didn’t have sex that night. They’d stayed up way too late playing games and Dan still felt kind of shitty after all the Nick stuff. They slept together though, just slept, all tangled up in Phil’s sheets. This time, it was Dan’s head pressed to Phil’s chest and Phil’s lips pressing a kiss into his curls.

“Morning,” Dan said, sleepily. He looked up to see Phil looking down at him with a lopsided smile and his quiff an absolute disaster.

“Morning.” Phil yawned.

“Did you not sleep well?”

“Slept great. I could get used to this, you know?”

Dan ran a hand over Phil’s bare chest over the line of dark hair running down his sternum. “I definitely know.” He slid his hand over a few inches and ran his fingertips over Phil’s nipples. Phil let out a little whimper that was too delicious to ignore.

“You like that?” Dan’s voice was low.

Phil nodded, his tongue swiping out to lick his bottom lip. “Don’t stop.

Dan sank into the rush of want he felt at those words and shuddered. He kept rubbing his fingers over those pretty pink nubs until they were hard, until he could feel Phil’s dick getting hard too.

Just the thought of that made Dan hard himself, and he dipped his head down to take Phil’s nipple between his lips. To lick and suck, to give soft tugs with his teeth.

Phil sank a hand into his hair and arched into the touch. “Oh God, Dan.”

Dan just smiled against him and kept at it. He’d keep at this alone for hours if it meant getting to hear Phil make sounds like that, getting to hear Phil say his name like _that._

“Dan, Dan. Fuck.” Phil tugged on Dan’s curls and pulled his mouth away, away and up to his own mouth.

Immediately, Dan gave into that kiss, intensified it. Their lips moved together, and then their tongues, deep, wet. Then deeper, wetter. Morning breath be damned.

Dan threw a leg over Phil’s waist, making sure not to leave their mouths apart for more than a few seconds. He loved this. Straddling Phil, looking down at him like that. All messy and wonderful and wanting him.

Wanting him—damn, that was still unbelievable.

Phil sat up, surprising Dan with the force of his kiss and knocked him back a little, but then Dan eased forward again so he was sat between Phil’s legs, his own wrapped around Phil’s back.

“Oof,” Dan muttered against Phil’s lips—hands splayed across his bare back.

“Sorry,” Phil said, running his hands over Dan’s cheek to his ears, playing with his little silver hoop. “I remember being absolutely devastated by this the first time I saw you wear it. It’s so sexy.”

Dan felt heat pool in his cheeks and lower too. He looked down to see the tip of his cock peeking out of the waistband of his black boxer briefs. “You think I’m sexy?” Dan whispered, voice low and dark.

“Never seen anything like you—and I’m the prince. I’ve seen all the beautiful things.”

Dan settled in closer to Phil. He could feel the bulge in Phil’s boxers against his ass and it made him want all sorts of things. One thing in particular…

He nudged his nose against Phil’s “That’s a damn good line.”

“I’ve been practicing it. Ran it by some focus groups. About eighty-six percent approval rating.”

“Phil?”

“Yeah.”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Phil did shut the fuck up and kiss him. He kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, until both their mouths were wet and sore.

“If you don’t stop grinding your ass on me, I’m going to come,” Phil said, breathlessly.

Dan wriggled down on Phil’s lap one more time, grinning. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Except I want to come in your mouth.”

For a moment, Dan thought he blacked out, but then he was fine—sort of.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t be,” Dan said quickly. “God, don’t be. I want that.” He rolled his hips, pressing his ass down against Phil’s cock again. “How do you want it? You want to lie on your back and I’ll get between your legs?… do you want me on my knees?”

“Oh, fuck,” Phil groaned.

“I guess I have my answer.”

“However you want.” Phil was quick to add.

“I want it.” Of course, he did. “Do you want to know something horribly embarrassing that might ruin everything?”

“Um, I think you have to tell me now.”

“That was… when i started realizing I was into guys, back when I was a teenager, that was one of the first things I got off to.”

“The thought of blowing a guy on your knees?”

Dan shook his head. “Not just a guy. _You._ ”

Phil just put his hands on Dan’s face and kissed him hard. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Dan slid off Phil’s lap. “You say that and you haven’t even seen how good I am at giving head.”

“That’s not true. Last time—”

“That was just a teaser, sir. This is the real deal.” Dan got off the bed and stood. “Come here, stand up.”

Phil swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He moved off the bed and stood in front of Dan as he was told.

Dan kept his eyes on Phil and slowly dropped his knees. He looked up the long line of Phil’s body to his colorfully patterned boxers all the way up his pale, firm chest. He was beautiful, his lips pink and swollen, his dark hair still a mess. It scared Dan, how natural it felt to be here.

“You think while I’m down here you could knight me?” Dan asked, trying to lighten the seriousness what he was feeling. “Or can only your mum do that?

“Let’s not talk about my mum right now,” Phil said.

“Good thinking, mate.” Dan drew in a deep breath and tugged Phil’s boxers down.

It took his breath away to see it—Phil’s large cock curving out towards his lips. There was already a little pearl of pre-come dripping out of the slit. Dan wrapped his hand around Phil’s shaft, brought the tip to his lips and licked it away.

“Fuck, Dan.”

Dan just looked up at Phil, and rubbed the tip of his cock around his lips, then laid it against the flat of his tongue.

Phil ran his hands through Dan’s hair, tugging back, making his neck stretch. “Oh my God, Dan. Oh my God.”

It was incredible, unbelievable, that Dan seemed to have the power to make Phil unravel like this. Dan wanted to see him unravel even more so he wrapped his lips around the tip of Phil’s cock and sucked.

Phil thrust in quickly, a little deeper than Dan expected. He was used to it though—for all the other times he’d given men head—and he put his hands on Phil’s warm thighs to settle him out.

“Sorry,” Phil said, pulling back and out of Dan’s mouth. “I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. You can fuck my mouth, but just warn a guy next time.”

“Jesus, Dan. You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Dan just smiled at Phil and sank his mouth back down around his cock, deeper this time, slowly, because Phil was big and his lips were aching but eventually he got almost to the base, Phil’s cock in the back of his throat. Dan swallowed.

“Oh God, oh fuck! _Dan._ ”

Hearing Phil’s voice like that was incredible, so Dan just held his breath and swallowed again before pulling back to lick and suck at the tip. Phil’s head was tilted back and Dan shoved his hand down his own pants because _God_ this was way too hot. On his knees, his mouth wrapped tight around Phil’s cock.

Years ago, thoughts of this was how Dan knew he liked men. Now, actually doing this just made him think about how much he liked this particular man.

Dan was bobbing his head and sucking and licking and doing all the things he’d learned to do in his life because he wanted to make Phil feel good and his hand was jacking his cock and his knees were aching and _fuck_ he was close.

“Right there,” Phil said, as Dan licked under the head. “Like that. Don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m gonna—”

Phil grunted and buckled forward as he filled Dan’s mouth with come. It was salty and sticky and Dan just swallowed around it. He’d never liked the taste but that thought that this was Phil coming like this for him, Phil he was swallowing down, had him coming in a jolt too. Shuddering, leaning back and shouting Phil’s name as he shot up all over his chest.

When Dan caught his breath, he looked up to see Phil staring down at him, eyes wide, like he was in total shock.

“You okay?” Dan said, still breathing too heavily.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. You’re just… that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“If it is, we need to get you some better porn, mate.” Dan laughed as he stood, wiping his chest off with his hand.

“Are you joining the industry? Because at this point it’s the only thing that’s going to do it for me.”

“I’d thank you with handshake but my hand is covered in jizz.”

Phil smiled at him. “Want me to show you how the shower works?”

“Yes, in very specific detail that will require you to be in the shower with me.”

 

After they showered— _together,_ there were still things and there would keep being things that would just shock Dan when he really thought about them—they headed down to Phil’s kitchen for breakfast.

“Do you want your gross instant coffee or do you want me to make you real coffee?”

Phil gave him a squinty-eyed look. “It’s not gross, but you can make the real coffee or you can show me how to make it on my own.”

Dan grabbed the coffee pot. “I don’t think so. Then you’ll have no reason to have me over.”

Phil snorted. “I can think of at least a dozen other non-coffee related reasons to have you over. One of which we just did upstairs.”

“That is a pretty good reason.”

While Dan was making the coffee, Phil poured them both bowls of cereal. They sat down at Phil’s kitchen table and ate and drank and just talked about nothing mostly—video games, movies, pointless, wonderful, normal shit.

“How long can you stay today?” Phil asked.

“I made plans for lunch with a friend a while back. I haven’t seen her since she had her baby.”

“Aw, is she bringing her baby?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I hope you’re better with babies than I am. I like them, but I think I scare them.”

“They usually like me. I’ve got this Winnie-the-Pooh vibe that works for me with kids.”

“I just hope I’m better with my own someday.”

“You want kids?” Dan asked, taking a bite of his cereal.

“I mean… I do, but I don’t really have much of a choice, you know?”

“Oh… oh.” Dan blinked. “Shit, right. Got to keep that royal line going.” Dan had a few bites of cereal left, but he suddenly wasn’t hungry for it. Thinking of Phil with kids of his own meant thinking of Phil with someday who wasn’t him.

Of course, Dan had known that, but he hadn’t really let himself think about it, and he didn’t want to start now.

“You want to watch another movie or something?” Phil asked.

Dan gave Phil a small smile. “Yeah, yeah. Lead the way to your movie slash murder dungeon.”

 

They watched the movie cuddled up on the couch, Phil’s head on his chest. It was nice, more than nice, just to be able to hold Phil like that, to lean down and place a soft kiss to his head whenever he wanted. But still, after that conversation in the kitchen it was hard for Dan to stay in the moment and not think of the future and all its limits.

Eventually, though, Dan had to leave and he kissed Phil goodbye and walked back out into the cold foggy day where he took the train to meet Louise for lunch. She already had the table when Dan got there and Pearl was snuggled up in her carrier on one of the . Louise stood up from her booth and gave Dan a hug.

“Oh, _hello_.” Dan leaned into the booth to see the baby. “She’s beautiful, Louise.”

“Isn’t she?”

“She’s just like a perfect baby.” Dan reached out and Pearl wrapped her tiny little around Dan’s finger. “Aw, okay. I’ve got to sit-down before I die of cuteness overload.”

Louise sat back down and Dan sat across from her and the baby. They looked at their menus and ordered, then Dan asked about how’s she been and how Pearl’s been and he listened to her talk all about. He liked seeing her like this. Just so happy and excited about something so wonderful and new, even if he could tell she was a little tired.

A little after the waiter had brought them their food and Louise had let Dan hold Pearl, Louise looked across the table at Dan and asked, “So, how have you been?”

Dan smiled because he thought of Phil and he always smiled when he thought of Phil. “Good. I’ve been… really good.”

Louise took a bite of her pasta. “We, um, we never talked about the… thing.”

Dan blinked, his brow drawing together. “What thing?”

“The video,” she whispered.

“Which video?” Dan whispered back.

Louise let out a sigh and her shoulders slumped. “Dan… come on, you know which video.”

Dan took a bite of his breadstick. “You saw that?”

“Everyone saw that.”

That made him squirm uncomfortably. Dan knew Louise wasn’t wrong. Pretty much everyone _had_ seen that video. He’d gotten congratulatory calls from his mum and his grandma, and it had been strange talking to them, pretending it was just an exciting work opportunity. It had been a while since he’d kept something like this from them. Honestly, though, he was shagging the prince. He’d never kept anything like this from anyone before. He obviously couldn’t say any of this to Louise though,

Dan pushed his spaghetti around on the plate. “Yeah, even my dad texted me and I almost never hear from him.”

After a moments pause, Louise said, “So like… you guys seem close?”

“Me and my dad?” Dan let out an awkward laugh. “No.”

Louise leaned in across the table. “No, you and _you know_.”

“Phil?”

Louise gestured toward Dan. “Exhibit A.”

“Yeah, so?” Dan took another bite, making sure to keep his attention on the food and not on Louise.” I mean he’s pretty cool. He’s funny, smart. He cares about other people. And we’ve been working together. We’ve got something we’re doing together next week too, which I’m pretty excited about.” He changed his mind, then sat back and looked right at her.“Haven’t we already had this conversation?”

Her lips pursed and she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, last time we had this conversation you didn’t have a hickey on your neck?”

Dan’s hand flew to his next and he sank down in his chair. “Jesus, shit, really?” he whispered through his teeth.

“No… but, my God, that was too easy.” Louise let out a breath and gave him that look. it was too maternal for his comfort. “This is a terrible idea, you know that right, Dan?”

Dan avoided eye contact with her again. “Louise, don’t start—“

“I’m not trying to. I’m just saying be careful. Like this is a _big_ deal.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Really.” They had barely started seeing each other… if Dan was in love with Phil, well, Louise didn’t need to know that.

“Not a big deal?” Her voice was so low now that Dan could barely hear her. “That our future king is gay?”

“Shh, shut up,” Dan hissed anyway. “I don’t even know if he’s gay. And it doesn’t matter because _no one_ is going to find out.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” she said softly, though not as quietly.

“What?”

“I don’t know.” Louise shrugged. “Being someone’s dirty little secret.”

Dan shut his eyes and tried not to think about it. He couldn’t think about it because it wasn’t like that, even if that’s what it would look like to everyone else. “Can we just eat our food?”

Louise let out a breath. She sounded disappointed, though he wasn’t certain what she had wanted him to say. “Sure…”

They were both finished, managing to make slightly awkward small talk as they waited for the waiter to bring back Dan’s credit car, when Louise said, “What is that?”

“What?”

She looked toward the window. “I saw a weird flash of light.”

Dan glanced around and, sure enough, there he was. That fucking pap again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? Who is it? What’s going on?”

“Just this asshole paparazzi dude who won’t leave me alone.” Dan stood up from the table. “Sorry, Louise. I can take this anymore.” He was already on edge from this whole conversation, and this was just the last straw.

“Dan, Dan, sit down. What are you doing?” Louise said, but Dan just ignored her and walked away from the table and outside onto the street.

Dan walked straight up to the asshole. “Hey, hey what the hell is your problem?”

The pap gave him an obviously fake smile. “Hi, Dan how are you?” He flashed the camera in Dan’s face.

“I’m here with a friend who has her baby with her. You need to stop taking pictures of us,” Dan said as forcefully as he could.

“I don’t actually need to do anything. This is a public street. You’re a public figure. I’m well within my rights. ”

“A public figure,” Dan mumbled. “You can’t actually be this much of a prick.”

“Lay off. This is my job, man.”

“Well, bullshit, because there’s no tabloid who’s going to pay you for pictures of two Youtubers eating lunch.”

The pap flashed another picture. “You’re not just a Youtuber though. Not anymore. Not after that video went viral. Your stock went up mate.”

Dan was not going to put up with this fucking tool anymore. He just wasn’t. “That video went viral because of Prince Philip. It didn’t have a single goddamn thing to do with me.”

He took another picture. “I guess the tabloids will be the judge of that.”

“What do you want from me?” Dan spat, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “A new fucking camera? I’ll buy you a new fucking camera if you just leave me hell alone, alright?”

“Where’s Nick anyway?” the pap said in that fake friendly voice again. “You two have a fight?”

 _Unbelievable._ Dan just shook his head. “What’s your deal anyway? You fail out of the journalism school mummy and daddy paid for? You have big dreams, but you just turned out to be far too mediocre so all you could manage was harassing people for a living?”

“Shut the fuck up,” the pap hissed, that fake friendly demeanor gone entirely.

Louise came out of nowhere and tugged on Dan’s arm. “Come on, Dan. Let’s just go.” She managed to pull Dan several feet away, but he was still brimming with anger and he could couldn’t help but to turn around spit out,

“Hey, asshole. Get a real fucking job.”

The pap just flipped him off, then turned and walked away.

“Well, I hope that made you feel better.” Louise asked.

“I did. Much, actually,” he said, though he knew he just had a high from his righteous anger, and that highs were always followed by crashes.


	33. Chapter 33

 

Phil: You on your way?

Dan: yep, almost.

Phil: YAY !! <3

When the train made it to the station, Dan made his way through the other travelers and hurried off. He had just a few blocks from here to Kensington Palace.

It felt weird now, going there not just to tuck away to Phil’s little cottage at night, but in the middle of the day, to work, when the place was crawling with tourists and all the people come to the event Phil invited Dan here for. Apparently, had to speak to a crowd of mostly old guys about technology and civics, and he and Phil had been texting back and forth about the content of that speech. Phil would start it off, then Dan would talk, then they’d take questions together. In a way, that made him feel better—that they’d be doing this together— but in another way… well, now that he and Phil were having sex, it felt different to present themselves as a team in the public eye. Like they had to be careful, like they’d have to watch every move, every glance and never, ever, accidentally touch. It felt like one touch would be enough to betray everything Dan felt. It was that much. That strong.

On top of that, Dan was nervous because this was the first time he and Phil had done anything together publicly since they’d played games for those school kids and that video went viral. He had no idea how people would react to seeing them together again.

He was almost to Kensington Palace when he got another text.

Phil: There are a lot more people here than I expected.

Dan: ?? what do you mean

Phil: The event is invite only, but like there are just other people here on the lawns, dan. young people. i think they might be your fans. did you say you were speaking at this event?

Dan: no, of course not. did you let anyone know?

Phil: Your information was included in the information we sent out to invitees but nothing else.

Dan: oh philly all it takes is one person to have dad or mum or something that you invited and my fans are going to find it

Phil: Maybe we should scout them for jobs with MI-6

Dan: lmao probably. sorry for the invasion.

Phil: Don’t be. It looks like we’re getting young people involved in government which is the whole point of this discussion. can you tweet your subscribers and tell them to act really excited about civics?

Dan: i think they are excited already and excited to make systemic change, which is what we’re going to tell those crotchety old tories

Phil: I’ll leave the scaring the shit out of my constituency to you.

Dan: i mean c'est la vie, eat the rich, i smell like beef, all that shit

Phil: I smell like beeeeeef

As Dan was trying to reply to Phil, he bumped into someone on the street. “Oh, sorry.”

“No worries,” the person said and then, “Wait. You’re… you’re the man, the one from the video with the prince.”

Dan looked at the stranger. He was short with greying hair around his temples and a blazer with elbow patches. The man was almost certainly a university professor of something.

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s me. Hi.”

“You should be careful, you know,” the man lowered his voice. “Involvement with _that_ family always comes at a price.”

Dan blinked. “Excuse me?” Had he accidentally just bumped into some tin-hat conspiracy theorist? Had he totally misjudged the whole professor thing?

“I’m just looking out for you. Families with power like that… they’re from a different world. We’re not the same to them.”

 _What the fuck?_ Dan let out a laugh. “What? Are they secretly giant alien lizards?”

The man didn’t laugh or smile. His expression only became more grim. “Just take care of yourself, son.” He looked up over his shoulder, toward Kensington Palace. “The house always wins.”

With that, he walked off and left Dan standing on the pavement. Stunned.

Dan: some weird fucker just stopped me on the street and warned me about you wtf lmao

Phil: It’s probably because of the cannibal thing

Dan: probably

Dan finished walking up the street, and when he turned to face Kensington Palace, he saw what Phil meant. There were people outside and they did look like _his_ people.

“Dan.” A fan shouted at Dan, waving and managed to make their way up to him. “Dan! Hi!”

“Oh, hey. Hey, you guys. Thanks for the support,” he called out to the others around as well. “But remember to play it cool. I’m trying to appear regal.”

He was met with laughter and the girl who was closest to him said, “You’re doing a good job, Dan.”

He laughed. Some times he felt like he was doing a good job and other times he didn’t. Times like this when he was surrounded by all his fans on the grounds of Kensington Palace… that was a time when he was less than secure about his role here. About if he was more of hinderance than a help to Phil.

“More of a jester,” Dan said. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

There was more laughter from the crowd, and Dan laughed too, but it was mostly nerves.

“Can I have a picture?” the girl asked before Dan could step away, could walk down the path to where he’d been told they were meeting.

“Sure.” he said to be polite and because, even if it was awkward, it really meant something to him that they were all there. “I can take the selfie if you want. Giant arms, you know.”

The girl smiled and handed Dan her phone. He leaned towards her and took a picture of the two of them with that awkward smile on his face. It was something he’d done a thousand times before, but something about it felt different. Here, on royal grounds.

“Thanks again!” the girl said. “Seriously, Dan, like this is weird but you mean so much to me and seeingyou, especially with the prince, like you looked up him and stuff and now you work with him and it’s just… I don’t know. It’s inspiring.”

Dan didn’t know how to respond, not really, so he just thanked her and made his way past the crowd and inside Kensington Palace. 

 

Dan met up with Phil inside. He looked more… dapper than he normally did when they’d do these events. It was probably because they were about to talk to adults not teens. He had a grey suit on and a black tie and Dan wanted to tell him how absolutely goddamn gorgeous he looked but he kept his mouth shut. Somehow.

He could tell that Phil was trying not to look at him too, even in this room that was filled with just a few people Phil worked with, including Maxwell. There was a sense he wanted to build the professional walls even thicker now that he had before. To hide any sense of impropriety, if that were the right word. Dan wasn’t sure it was. He thought about what Louise had said— _dirty little secret—_ then, he forced himself to forget about it.

They had to go out on stage.

Phil went out first, then after a while, he called Dan out on stage. “Daniel Howell, social media influencer and Overcooked cohort” was how Phil introduced him. Dan smiled. It was nice to know that Phil wasn’t being that serious despite the crowd, that there was still _his_ Phil underneath all that wool and starch.

Dan did the talk he prepared, and he tried his best not to look at the audience too much. He did all the tricks he’d learned during his tour to avoid the judgmental glares of the parents in the audience. This was a whole room full of disapproving parents. Eventually, though, adrenaline took over and he settled into a groove. When Phil came back up on stage to take questions, Dan really felt like he hit his stride. Phil too.

They took questions about how social media could be used to spread awareness to young people, about how technology was changing what communities looked like, and then a man stepped up to the microphone. A short, thick grey-haired man who made Dan think of old Vernon Dursley, hating magic and selling his drills.

“Hello, Your Highness,” the man said grimly.

“Hi, how are you?” Phil replied.

“Fine,” the man cleared his throat. “My question is for you. Don’t you think this is a little much?”

“Excuse me?” Dan said.

“I have to watch the constant pandering to the ‘youth’, to these new, frankly often ludicrous, ideas from the media and now I have to watch it from our greatest institution? This world is more troubled than it’s ever been and we’re raising a generation that’s far too soft to handle the challenges its about to face.”

It was a rude question and Dan had about ninety-seven rebuttals for the man, but he kept quiet because the question was directed at Phil.

Phil looked like a deer in headlights, his mouth opening and closing.

Confused, Dan looked back to the questioner and then back to Phil.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I have to—“ Phil ran off stage.

Dan stood there, stunned. That was… bizarre didn’t even begin to. He looked out the direction Phil had gone, then back towards the audience and that Vernon Dursley man was still stood there, looking perturbed. Dan would be lying if he said he didn’t want to go down there and knee him in the balls, but he knew that wasn’t an option. He had to make this look as normal as possible for Phil.

It was an rude question, asked in a rude way, but he had definitely not expected it to set Phil off like that.

All Dan could do was try to cover it up. “It looks like the prince had some urgent business to attend to, but I’d be happy to take a couple more questions before I’ll have to go as well.”

Dan took two more questions, though he was basically on auto-pilot as he answered them. As soon as he could reasonably get away, he walked off stage and went looking for Phil. He caught a glimpse of him through a window stood outside in an alleyway lined with bushes, getting absolutely pelted by the rain.

Dan rushed out the door and into the downpour. “Hey, Phil. Phil, are you okay? What happened?”

“Go back inside, Dan. You’ll get soaked,” Phil mumbled staring at the ground, totally focused, like he was trying to count the cobblestones in the alleyway.

“Forgive me, if I don’t give a fuck.” Dan moved in front of Phil, demanding his attention. “You just walked off stage. You left me up there. I had absolutely no idea what to do.”

“I’m sorry, but hasn’t anyone ever told you I’m shit at this?” Phil’s gaze snapped up to meet Dan’s. His eyes were red and there were wet lines that Dan knew weren’t from the rain.

Dan’s stomach sank, guilt like a vice in his chest. He shouldn’t have raised his voice at Phil like that. “Phil, you’re… fuck, you’re crying. Phil, talk to me, _please._ You need to—”

“What difference does it make, Dan?” Phil snapped, then sniffled. “Men like that, they’ll _never_ respect me.”

“Then, fuck them.”

“I don’t have that luxury. They’re _all_ my people, same as those kids standing outside earlier.” He pointed at Dan. “Same as you. I don’t just get to decide a portion of them can all get fucked.”

Dan let out a breath. “I know,” he said softly.

“You can’t _know,_ Dan. I’m sorry, but no one can know what this feels like. I don’t think you saw, but I was crying in there, too. I _cried_ in front of those men about _nothing._ I’m… I’m weak.”

“You’re not weak.” Dan wiped droplets of rain off his face.

“I _look_ weak. How can I possibly lead when that’s how people perceive me?” Phil was having to raise his voice just to speak over the rain.

Dan couldn’t stand it. Phil talking about himself like this, especially when Dan didn’t think the ideal he seemed to want to live up to was ideal at all… or practical… or useful.

“I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to charge into battle on your noble steed, then, like Charlemagne,” Dan said, a little bristled, dismissive. Maybe he just wasn’t sure what to do anymore. How to help.

“You have no idea what I’m going to have to face. I don’t have any idea. Look at the world, Dan. Climate change, increasing economic inequality, nuclear proliferation. The people in this country should be able to look to someone, to someone strong, like my mother… like Martyn. He’s the king we needed.” Phil dropped his gaze again, his voice lowering. “I’m not the man he was, and I won’t even be half the king he would’ve been.”

Dan stood there for a moment, speechless. Just looking at the top of Phil’s bowed head, at the rain falling on the few strands of grey there. He wondered if those hairs had been there before Martyn died, before this weight had been unexpectedly, unceremoniously, dumped on his shoulders.

“You’re right,” Dan said, a little surprised at himself.

Phil looked up at him again, his brow drawn together. “What?”

“You’re right. You’re not the man Martyn was and you won’t be the half king that he would’ve been. But you’re the man _you_ are and you’re going to be the _whole_ king that you were meant to be. You cried in front of those men? Good. If they can’t see the bravery in that, then that’s their weakness. Want to be the king they need? Show them a better way.”

Phil looked up, looked right at Dan with this expression like he was surprised Dan was there. Like he was looking at something brand new—a color he’d never seen before. The wind had picked up and the rain was coming down harder, in fierce, slanted sheets. They were both drenched, dripping. It was sudden when Phil kissed him, and, somehow, not sudden at all. Impossible, inevitable, those two words that seemed to wind themselves around everything Dan and Phil had become together.

Instinctively, Dan grabbed Phil’s tie, pulled him closer. Kissed Phil hard. Let himself be kissed.

Phil was eventually the one to pull away for air, but he didn’t pull himself away entirely. He still clung to Dan in the rain, mumbling something incoherent, then burying his face in Dan’s neck. Dan just clung to him tightly, put a hand on Phil’s hair and held him.

A few moments later, Dan heard something behind him. A snap maybe or a click. He wasn’t quite sure, but it made him pull back a little from Phil and tense. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Phil sounded completely nonplussed. Clearly, he hadn’t heard anything at all. It was still pouring out. It was probably nothing, but the rain on those loose cobblestones.

“I don’t know.” Dan stepped back and clapped Phil’s shoulder. Nothing. I’m just hearing things. Come on, let’s get back inside before we get all pruney.”

 

Phil had more work to do so, not long after, Dan went home. That night, he took a shower and slipped into bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. He was plugging in his phone when he got a text message.

Phil: Thanks for everything today.

Dan: always

Phil: <3 <3 <3

It wasn’t long before Dan drifted to sleep and he didn’t wake up until after ten the next day. He did what he always did naturally when he woke up. He reached over to look at his phone. Dan was startled by what he saw. Fifteen voicemails, thirty three missed calls and forty five text messages. All it took was looking at one text, just one from some random person he barely knew at Google.

Mitch: You and the prince?? Dude, what the fuck??

Dan’s heart plummeted. How would some random guy at Google know anything about him and Phil unless… _oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

Breath held, Dan opened up Twitter, and there it was. Number one trending, a Twitter moment for the day. _Prince Philip and YouTube star Daniel Howell caught kissing_ , text over the picture of the kiss they’d shared yesterday in the rain.

Fuck. Just… _fuck._

 


	34. Chapter 34

Dan had no idea how long he just stood in his bedroom in a state of panic, but eventually, he mustered up the courage to look at his messages.

Some were from random people like Mitch. Some were from Emily— _oh, fuck_ he was scared of those _._ Some were from his Mum and Grandma and his brother, and Louise and Nick and Phil.

_Oh God, Phil. Oh God. Poor Phil._

He had to read those.

Phil: Dan I’m so sorry. Dan. Fuck.

There was no reason for Phil to be apologizing. Dan felt like he was the one to drag him into this whole mess anyway. Dan _was_ the one that had kissed him at Tower of London, wasn’t he? He’d started it… made that first real step towards more than friendship.

Phil: Let me know you’re okay, please. This is all my fault. I never should’ve kissed you.

Phil: I don’t mean ever, of course, just yesterday. Fuck. Fuck.

Dan started to text Phil though he didn’t have any idea what the fuck he was going to say when he heard sirens outside. He ran to the window and peered through the blinds. When he saw what was below, he drew in a sharp breath. People were everywhere. Surrounding the building, three people thick on each side. Dan closed the blinds and tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t. It was as if his lungs had been punctured and every attempted gasp just wheezed out into nothingness.

In moments like this they said there was fight and there was flight, but there was something else too, Dan now realized. There was freeze.

He stayed in that state of freeze until he heard a knock on the door. The sound jolted him. Who the hell was it? Had all those people gotten inside the building? Had they found exactly which one flat was his? The knock happened again and then turned into a pounding.

_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._

Maybe it was stupid, but Dan needed to know exactly what the knocking was about and who was doing it so he just sort of wandered downstairs to the door as the knocking went on. He felt detached, like his body wasn’t really his body anymore.

Dan peered through the peephole and was shocked, and somewhat relieved to see who was on the other side of the door.

He quickly opened the door and Maxwell slid inside, shutting it behind himself immediately.

“Maxwell? What are you doing here?” Dan said, dumbly.

Maxwell was wearing a dark suit, black tie. He looked more like an extra in Men-in-Black than he ever had before, which was to say something because he always kind of looked like that. His face was stern, his eyes narrowed into slits as his gaze bore into Dan. “What the bloody hell do you think I’m doing here?”

“How’d you get in without being seen?” Dan asked, though he was suddenly acutely aware that he was standing here in front of the prince’s official bodyguard in nothing but a pair of tight pants. Exposed, that seemed to be the theme of today.

“I _was_ seen. We’re way past being seen, don’t you think?”

Dan thought of the picture, of the clarity of Phil’s mouth on his mouth, a private moment, for all the world to see.

“Yeah, fuck. I looked out the window and—”

“You should stay away from the windows,” Maxwell grumbled.

“I thought you said we were way past being seen.”

“It’s not you being _seen_ I’m worried about, Mr. Howell.”

Dan felt the air knock out of his chest as what Maxwell was implying sank in.“Jesus Christ, are you being serious?”

“We haven’t received any threats yet, but we need to be taking every precaution right now.”

“Yet? _Yet?_ ” Oh, God. That could happen, couldn’t it? People could actually be angry about this, violently angry. Not most people, but it only took one, didn’t it? Just one bigoted asshole…

Maxwell looked at Dan again. He was usually draped in a shroud of professionalism, but something about him today seemed edged, sharp. “You should go and you should pack a bag, and anything you might need, like IDs, Passports, credit cards.”

Dan just stood there, dumbfounded. Barely able to process the words that were being thrown at him. “Why? What? What’s happening?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss—”

Anger surged through Dan suddenly, anger at the injustice of it all, and that anger mixed dangerously with the fear. “I didn’t commit a crime. You can’t just make me leave my home!”

“No, I can’t.” There it was from Maxwell again. That almost unhinged edge, and it frightened Dan even more, if that were possible. “But I can tell you that there are six entrances to this building alone, none of which are secure. There’s a fire exit but you’re on the fifteenth floor and if you can get down it, someone can get up it. Not to mention the amount of windows you have in this flat, and you’re a bloke who was caught on camera with his tongue down the prince’s throat. Would you like me to go over that again or…?”

Dan shut his eyes, bowed his head. Maxwell was right. He hated it, but Maxwell was right. “No. No, I’m going.” He was starting to make his way up the stairs when Maxwell’s voice stopped him.

“Oh, and Mr. Howell?”

Dan turned around. “What?”

“You need to hurry, but you should make yourself presentable.”

His brow furrowed. The last thing on earth Dan cared about right now was being presentable. “Why?”

“Because you’re going to meet your queen today.”

 

Dan got dressed as quickly as possible, for someone about to meet the queen, who also happened to be his boyfriend’s mum, who also probably happened to want to strangle him. He threw on a pair of black trousers and a white button-up and hoped that would be good enough. It was all he could think of that was “nice”. Then, he packed a suitcase as quickly as he could manage. He stuffed anything he could think of into it—shirts, pants, jeans, socks, all of it tossed in a mad a frenzy. He raced to the bathroom and scooped an entire drawer full of toiletries into his suitcase. Then, he hurried to his desk and dug through until he found his passport. Maybe he and Phil would use it to escape to a tropical island or something until things blew over. _Right, yeah? Wishful-fucking-thinking, Dan._

He dragged his suitcase back down the steps, huffing for air.

“Ready to go?” Maxwell asked.

Dan nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“When we go out there, keep your head down. I don’t care what people say to you, you are not to respond to them. Just stay next to me.”

“Okay,” Dan said. What the fuck else was he going to say?

 

When he stepped outside his building, he was not prepared for what he was walking into. He’d known it would be bad, but this, _this,_ was more than he’d ever expected. Camera lights were flashing at him and people were shouting questions, reporters were pushing through the crowd holding out their microphones.

“How long have you been romantically involved with the prince?”

“Do you have a sexual relationship with Prince Philip?”

“Is the prince gay?”

“Does the queen know about your relationship?”

Maxwell put his hand out at a reporter that had come to close. “You need to step back!”

Dan couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning and he wanted to shout at these assholes, but he clung to what Maxwell had told him to do and stayed glued to his side, mouth shut.

But there were more than just the reporters there. There were regular people, and they were shouting things at him too or holding up signs. He saw one pride flag, one love wins sign, but there were other signs too… with the kind of slurs he’d heard in high school and seen in his YouTube comments.

Dan’s stomach twisted and he felt like he might sick, right here in front of everyone, but that would just make everything worse. If any of this could actually be worse. He couldn’t make it worse. He wouldn’t do that to Phil.

Finally, _finally,_ they’d made it through the hoard to the shiny black car that was waiting for them. Maxwell shouted for people to get out of the way, yanked the back door open and practically shoved Dan inside and shut the door.

The police helped them drive out of the crowded area, directing them through the cordoned off area and out onto the street, on their way to wherever they were going.

 

 

Apparently, their destination was Kensington Palace. Something about being told they were going to be meeting the queen made Dan think he was going to go to Buckingham Palace—or that he’d be whisked away to some secret underground bunker. But, no, they drove directly into a Kensington Palace that appeared to have been closed down for the day.

Instead of heading to Phil’s cottage or to where they’d had meetings and events before, Dan was led into the large apartment, the regal looming building that people actually thought of when they thought of Kensington Palace. The “apartment” where Martyn would probably have lived if he’d lived to marry Cornelia and have kids and everything the papers always wrote about him doing.

Dan followed Maxwell inside and directed him into a room, but didn’t follow. Dan was terrified that he’d open the door to find Queen Kathryn standing there, staring him down. But it wasn’t her. It was Phil.

Phil let out a broken breath and rushed forward toward him. “Dan!” Phil wrapped Dan in a hug and Dan squeezed back. “Oh my god. You’re alright!”

“Phil, shit. I’m so, so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Phil pulled away from the hug, and gestured at himself. “I’m the one that kissed you. I’m the one that’s the prince. I’m the reason your house is surrounded by a mob!”

“You heard about that?”

“It’s on the news.”

“Seriously?”

It made sense that it would be on the news—of course it fucking was, all those reporters… but it was still so goddamn impossible that he was caught up in any of this. That he’d been the cause of this.

“It’s all that’s bloody on. You’d think people could mind their own damn business,” Phil said.

“What are we going to do? I mean, what the _fuck_ are we going to do?”

Before Phil could answer, if he had an answer at all, the door opened and Maxwell walked in, followed by Phil’s assistant and three other people—at least two of which were probably bodyguards like Maxwell. He wasn’t so certain of the other’s role. He looked big and imposing enough to be security, but he was dressed differently than the others. Like he’d been called in from a holiday.

“Dan, this is my assistant, Margo,” Phil said, sounding exhausted. “I don’t think you’ve officially met.”

Dan put out his hand. “Hello. I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”

Margo hesitated but took his hand. “As do I.”

Phil gestured to the other people standing in the room. “And these are two of my mother’s bodyguards, Jeanine and Henry, and this is Victor, the Royal family…”

“Publicist for all intents and purposes.”The man nodded at him, the one Dan thought looked like he’d been summoned back from a holiday.

Dan gave him an awkward smile back. “So, I’m kind of your worst nightmare, huh?”

Victor looked at everyone in the room, shoulders back, face serious. “And I think it’s about time we all wake up.”

There was a stretch of awkward silence, before Phil let out a tense breath and said, “Is my mother on her way?”

“Yes,” Maxwell replied.

Sick of the heavy quiet, Dan spoke up, “That must be causing a hell of commotion on the streets. The queen. People were practically picketing my house.”

Maxwell gave him a severe look. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Mr. Howell. London’s… more than you think it is.”

Dan cast a glance over at Phil because what the hell did that mean, but Phil wasn’t looking at him, he was staring down to the floor, chewing on his thumbnail, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Dan’s stomach sank. Standing here, in Kensington Palace. Not in Phil’s cottage, but in one of the many ornate rooms of the massive important apartment. Dan couldn’t remember ever feeling more alone. At least not since he’d been crying in the cheese aisle of Asda that first week of uni.

He looked up at the expensive velvet draperies, the beautifully-crafted architecture, every last items rich and luxurious looking. Grand too. He was minuscule beneath it at all, and yes, this was definitely worse than the Asda cheese aisle.

Maxwell put a finger to his ear and mumbled something turning away from the rest of them. He mumbled a few more things Dan couldn’t make out, then looked back to everyone else, but to Dan in particular.

“She’s arrived.”

Dan felt his heart rocket into his throat and block his breathing. This would be nerve-wracking even under normal circumstances and these were definitely not normal circumstances. He wanted to reach, to take Phil’s hand and hope that it brought them both comfort, but Dan just stood there, his hands at his sides, staring at the imposing wooden doors before him. It seemed like a century, though it was probably only seconds between when Maxwell said, “she’s arrived” and those giant doors began to open.

There she was, not fifteen feet in front of Dan—Queen-fucking-Kathryn.


	35. Chapter 35

In person, Queen Kathryn was short. It didn’t matter, though, that she was short. She radiated a presence, a power, that Dan felt knock him back a little. Her hair was perfectly done, her make-up too. Slim, clean black trousers—not a dusting of lint—nude pumps, and a white blouse, simple gold chain around her neck. Minus the crown, she looked like she did on the ten pound note.

The Queen didn’t dress anything like her mother had dressed, like her grandmother. Kathryn had her own way, and it wasn’t less royal. If anything, Dan felt swallowed up by how royal it all was. The Queen in a palace surrounded by her entourage.

Queen Kathryn looked directly at him as she approached. “Daniel, tell me. Did you ever hear the story about the psychiatrist who was taking a drive through South London during the Blitz?”

How was he even supposed to respond to that? Dan’s throat was so tight he felt choked. “No, ma’am. I don’t think so.”

“The neighborhood had been devastated by the Luftwaffe. Every hundred yards or so there was a crater from a bomb or rubble from something that had once been a house or a shop.” The queen stepped back, as if to suggest she was speaking to everyone in the room, not just Dan. “While he was there, the warning siren sounded and the psychiatrist was concerned, but also curious to see how the other’s would respond. A nun on the street, looked worried and grabbed the hand of a child and hurried her along to safety, but it seemed like the nun and the psychiatrist were the only ones who had heard the warning at all. The young boys just kept playing in the streets, the shoppers kept on haggling with the shopkeepers, the policeman kept on directing traffic. ‘No one’ the psychiatrist said, ‘ As far as I could see, even looked into the sky.’ “

Phil’s voice was low, wary “Mum…”

She looked at him the way a mother looks at son. “Time to look at the sky, Philip.” Then she looked at the rest of the people in the room the way a queen looks at her people. “Okay, then. Let’s talk strategy.”

One of the women that had come in with the queen spoke up, “We could take legal action against the news sources spreading the picture.”

“Yes, Bridget, now seems like the time to attack the free press,” Victor said.

She replied, “The photograph constitutes an invasion of privacy. It’s possible that—”

“The prince is a public figure and it doesn’t matter that it’s possible. It’s a public relations disaster.”

Dan had a thought as they were arguing back and forth. Some other staff of the Queen and Phil chiming in, though Phil himself stayed silent.

“What about going after the photographer?” Dan blurted. Everyone in the room stopped talking and stared at him. Dan shrunk down a little. “Sorry.”

“We have no idea who it is,” Bridget said to Dan. “There’s no way the media will give up their source.”

“I might know who it is,” Dan replied.

Victor stepped forward. “How do you know who it is?”

“I mean I don’t _know._ Not for sure, but I have an idea. There’s this guy. He was following Nick, Nick Jonas, I mean, my friend, and we ran into him after dinner once. He was aggressive and inappropriate. I shouted at him and broke his camera. He’s been harassing me ever since.”

The Queen gave Dan a look that made Dan want phase out of existence.

“You know his name?” Victor asked.

“No, but I know what he looks like. We never talked about it, but Nick might know his name.”

Bridget looked at Victor. “How is this any better for public relations?”

It wasn’t Victor who answered, but Maxwell. “He was trespassing for one. To get that angle he had to have been in the bushes. That area’s private, off limits to the public.

“And where were you, Maxwell?” the queen said, not harshly, but coldly, which seemed so much worse. “While a disgruntled paparazzo was climbing into the junipers to photograph my son?”

“It was my mistake, Your Majesty.” Maxwell pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin. “I take full responsibility for—”

“Max, stop,” Phil finally spoke, turning to his mum. “I told him to leave me alone. I _ordered_ him to leave me alone.”

“I was just around the corner,” Maxwell said.

“Apparently, it was the wrong corner,” the queen replied.

“Yes, ma’am.” Maxwell looked down. Dan could tell he felt shitty about not realizing that someone was out there, that that someone could have gone after Phil with more than a camera.

“We can discuss legal action against the press or the photographer all day long,” Victor said. “But we have much larger hill to climb.”

Queen Kathryn looked at him. “What hill is that, Victor?”

Victor visibly tensed, glancing over at Phil, then back at the Queen. “Our future king is a gay man.”

Bridget snapped, “Victor—”

Victor ignored Bridget and kept on talking directly to Queen Kathryn. “All due respect, ma’am, but if you don’t see that this is what we’re talking about, about what your son’s sexuality means for the stability of this country, for this family’s ability to function as a unifying, apolitical force, for the future of a monarchy with a king without a wife to produce heirs. If we don’t address that, if we don’t focus on _that,_ then we’re no different than the boys playing ball in the streets while German bombs were dropping out of the sky.”

There was a long stretch of silence and the only thing Dan could think about as he felt himself get smaller and smaller was _am I the bomb?_

“Daniel, have you spoken to anyone about any of this?” Queen Kathryn asked him. “Your friends, your mother?”

Dan shook his head. “No, no, ma’am. I texted Phil but that was it.”

“Give Jeanine your phone,” she commanded Dan.

Phil interrupted, “Mum—”

“You too, Philip.”

Phil gave Dan a glance, it was a regretful looking one—one of the first ones he’d given Dan since this whole thing had started. He mouthed, “Sorry,” at Dan and Dan mouthed, “It’s okay” back.

Dan handed the Queen’s bodyguard, Jeanine, his phone and Phil did too.

“I’m sorry, boys.” Queen Kathryn said. Dan wasn’t sure if she sounded actually sorry, but at least she didn’t sound cruel. Like she was getting any pleasure out of any of this. “I have to figure out what our story is and I can’t risk that we tell more than one.” “It shouldn’t be long before the press finds Daniel’s family. We should get a security detail on them.”

“There’s already people on the way, ma’am,” Maxwell said.

“Good. Thank you,” the queen said to Maxwell, then addressed everyone else. “In the meantime, Daniel stays here. At least until we can craft some kind of statement, relieve as many of the concerns as possible.”

“We can say it was an emotional moment,” Victor said, shaking his head. “They’d formed a friendship through working together and Mr. Howell misunderstood the nature of their relationship.”

_Wait, what?_

“ _I_ kissed _him,_ ” Phil said, stepping forward.

“That’s not clear from the image,” Victor replied, though he didn’t seem fully convinced.

Phil’s hands were fists at his side. “And Dan didn’t misunderstand anything. We can’t just say…”

“If he’s seen with a woman…” Bridget said to the Queen. “I mean, not right away of course, but within a few weeks. He could be seen with a woman on a date.”

The thought of Phil out somewhere with a beautiful woman on his arm made Dan lightheaded. He _hated_ it.

“I’m not tricking some poor woman into thinking I’m interested in her,” Phil said.

_Thank God._

“It doesn’t have to be trick, Philip. She could know and agree,” the queen said gently.

“I’m not…” Phil’s voice was small. “I just don’t want to stop seeing, Dan.”

“Then, don’t,” Queen Kathryn said. Again, gently. “You’ll both have to be very, _very,_ discreet. But it would be possible for you two to have a secret relationship. It wouldn’t be the first time. There are people to help with that… things would have been very different for you both if you would have just come to me in the first place, Philip.”

Dan’s heart was pounding. He didn’t know what to say or do or think…

Finally, Phil spoke up again. “So, I would see Dan privately, but publicly, there would be a woman?”

“It’s complicated,” Victor said. “It wouldn’t be easy or fool-proof, but—”

“Yes,” Bridget said to Phil.

Phil didn’t reply, didn’t say no or tell her to fuck off or any of the things Dan wanted to shout at all of them. He just stood there, and Dan felt like he was going to be sick again. _Publicly, there would be a woman._ Sick. Right here. On the floor. Right on the Queen’s nude-fucking-pumps.

She gave Phil that look again. That mum look. “There’s also what we talked about, Philip.” Her voice was impossibly soft. “Before…”

Phil’s bottom lip quivered. Dan could see the tremble running through his whole body. “Mum, no,” Phil said. “You know what I said, and nothing’s changed.”

“Everything’s changed, child.”

What was going on? What had they talked about before? Dan just wanted to talk to Phil. He wanted to understand what was happening. Wanted to stop feeling like this, like a pinball being kicked around by levers in this machine.

Phil looked over at Dan and for a moment, Dan felt relief. It was those eyes looking at him, those gentle, familiar eyes he’d fallen in love with. And then Phil spoke, “Dan, can you… can you go with Margo, down to the kitchen? I’m sure you’re hungry and could something to eat.”

“I’m fine.” _Is he trying to get rid of me?_

“Dan, _please,_ ” Phil spoke through his teeth. He looked, in that moment, like the lightest touch could shatter him.

“Come on, dear.” Margo put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Let’s go on.”

 

Dazed, Dan followed Margo out of the room and through the exquisite labyrinth of halls to a small modest kitchen that was likely meant for the staff.

“Sit down, love.” Margo pointed at the padded bench behind a wooden table. “I’ll get you a snack.”

Dan didn’t move to sit down. “I don’t think I can eat,” he said, a little out of it as he noticed a television suspended in the corner of the room, his face on the screen.

“I’m going to get you a snack anyway and you can decide later.”

Dan blinked. “Okay.”

“Feel free to eat anything you want in here, and the kitchen staff is off today so no one should bother you. You like apples and peanut butter?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

He just kept staring at the screen as images of himself flashed, then the picture of the kiss… Morbid, stupid curiosity had him grabbing the remote control and turning up the volume. They were talking about him and Phil and what it all meant…

“And a Diet Coke?” Margo asked.

He heard her but was too focused on the telly to reply. All he could think about was who was watching this right now. His mum. His grandma… his brother… his _dad._

“Dan?” Margo raised her voice, setting a plate of apples and peanut butter down on the table with the Diet Coke.

The man on the telly said, “The Prince’s secret gay love—”

Margo took the remote from his hand and changed the channel a few times. “Won’t do you any good to be watching that.” She stopped on a channel where Monica was talking to Phoebe. “ _Friends._ How’s that?”

“That’s fine, Margo. Thank you.”

Margo smiled gently at Dan. “Chin up, dear. The monarchy’s gotten itself out of tighter spots before.”

 _Tighter_ spots? Because at this point Dan was just fucking delirious. that made him snigger, but then he choked it off.

“Well,” Margo let out a small laugh of her own. “That _was_ an unfortunate pun, wasn’t it?”

With that, Margo cleaned up what she needed to in the kitchen, and then began to head out. He appreciated her kindness, suddenly. He didn’t think she had to be kind to him.

Dan swallowed a bite and looked over at Margo as she was about to leave. “Good apples.”

She smiled back at him. “They’re pink ladies.” With that, she left him in that drab kitchen watching an episode of _Friends_ alone.

 

Dan wasn’t even sure how many episodes into this fucking _Friends_ marathon he was, but he’d polished off the apples and the peanut butter and two more Diet Cokes. It didn’t seem like Phil was coming down here to rescue him anytime soon. What the hell was he talking about? What were they deciding on about Dan’s life without him even being in the room?

The _Friends_ theme song had just started up again when Dan heard loud barking outside. It kept on, so Dan stood from the kitchen bench and followed the sound. He found a door and looked out the small window in it. It was Sam, barking and scratching at the door.

Dan wasn’t sure if he was allowed in here, but honestly, fuck most of these people. Dan opened the door and let Sam bound inside. He knelt down and ruffled the big dog’s fur. Sam knocked him back against the wall and slurped his face.

“Nice to see a friendly face,” Dan said to the dog. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Sam, giving him a squeeze. Sam just rest his wide head on Dan’s shoulder.

They ended up back on the kitchen bench, continuing that _Friends_ marathon. Dan’s feet were kicked up onto a kitchen chair and Sam’s head was on his lap.

As Dan carded his fingers through that soft fur, stroked down his ears, all Dan could think about was how much he missed his comfortable sofa. How much they’d both feel better relaxing on that watching telly, than stuffed into his cramped room with nothing but reruns. He hadn’t appreciate it enough at the time—a normal, boring day. Nothing to do but get take-away with Nick.

Eventually, Dan drifted off, then woke up, with still no one there, but Sam. His stomach was growling so he searched around for more food and ended up raiding half the cupboards. Sam wagged his tail wildly when Dan found his cans of food.

Hours later, when the sun had begun to set, Sam barked loudly, starling Dan. He climbed off his lap and rushed toward the swinging kitchens.

Hope rose in Dan’s chest. It had been all day and Sam seemed so excited. Phil had probably come down to find him.

“Hey, Sam. Down boy.” Maxwell gently pushed Sam off his hip as he walked through the kitchen doors.

All that hope just melted away. “Oh, it’s you.” Dan sighed.

“Don’t sound so excited to see me.”

“Sorry. I thought you were Phil.”

Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest. “I can see how that would be very disappointing for you.”

Dan looked back at the telly and said, “You’re more talkative than I remember.”

“I figure I’m stuck with you now.” Maxwell walked up so he was standing beside Dan’s bench. After all these hours, he’d come to think of it as _his_ bench.

“Do you know when I’m going to be able to see Phil?” Dan asked.

Maxwell ignored the question. Of course, he did. “This the episode where Joey finds the Porsche?”

Dan rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah.”

Maxwell nodded, lips tipped into a thoughtful frown. “Always liked that one.”

“You a big _Friends_ stan _?”_

“Not sure what a stan is, but I watched a lot of it with the prince when he first started uni, before he met other students.”

It was easy to picture for some reason, as ridiculous as it was. A gangly young prince and his still jacked bodyguard tucked away in his cramped university hall, just sat on one of those shitty dorm mattresses eating microwave popcorn and laughing at American sitcoms. Okay, maybe the Maxwell laughing part was hard to imagine.

“How long have you worked for Phil, anyway?” Dan asked.

“Since, then. Since, he started uni. I was twenty-three year old. This is only the second job I’ve ever had.”

Dan looked up at Maxwell, his lips curved into a crooked smile. “My second job was at Asda.”

Maxwell’s arms slipped down from where they were crossed at his chest and he dipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “There’s a room ready for you.Your suitcase is already in there. I was sent down here to take you to it.”

 

Dan followed Maxwell up to a small room. He unlocked the door and gestured for Dan to walk inside. Dan thanked him, and then watched Maxwell walk away to a room a few doors down. Sam followed him, but kept going. Dan wasn’t sure where the old dog was headed.

With a sigh, Dan shut the door to the guest room and turned around. His suitcase was on the bed. The room was… well, kind of ugly in Dan’s opinion. He’d never really been into the whole gold and tassels thing, but at least the bed looked a lot more comfortable than that kitchen bench he’d been left on all day.

Not sure what else to do, Dan opened his suitcase and started to rummage through it. He wanted to change out of the uncomfortable clothes he was in. His hands ran over that black-and-white striped sweater, the one he’d worn when he’d met Phil.

A small smile curled onto his face. He’d never forget that day, he’d never forget the way it felt to feel Phil’s hand in his for the first time. He’d never guessed in that moment that it would all end up here with this pins-and-needles fear and his gaping void in his chest.

He loved Phil. There was no doubt about that at this point. He loved him, and he wanted what was best for him, and all of this… all of it was a disaster.

It sank inside him slowly, the realization of it, of what was going on and how hard it was going to hit. He thought of the nun who’d heard the warning siren and rushed the child to safety. He thought of the words Queen Kathryn had said, _It’s time to look at the sky._

He grabbed his passport from his suitcase and shoved it in his pocket. Then, he slipped out of the guest room and walked down the hall to the room he’d seen Maxwell go into. He drew in a deep steadying breath. _This is the right thing. It’s the right thing._

Dan knocked on Maxwell’s door. A few moments later, the door opened.

“Dan… what are you doing here?” Maxwell’s voice was hushed as he peeked around the door. “Is the prince alright?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been allowed to see him.” Dan let out a breath. “Can I come in?”

Maxwell hesitated but then opened the door further and stepped aside. Dan walked in and Maxwell shut the door behind him. He was still wearing black trousers, but his dress shirt and tie were gone. He was just in a plain white t-shirt. The shirt sleeves were stretched around his biceps. Dan had noticed the man was muscular before, but not exactly how much.

“What do you want?” Maxwell asked.

Dan drew in a deep breath, then forced the words out. “It’s a stupid idea, isn’t it? I could tell that Victor thinks it’s a stupid idea, and that’s like his job, right? I know that if Emily was here, or I could talk to her, she’d tell me it’s bloody batshit.”

“Sounds like me and her would really get on.”

Dan didn’t want to say it, but not saying it didn’t make it not true, and it was what he’d come here to say. The reason he’d come here seeking Maxwell’s help. “This is bad. I’m bad… for him, for his future. And, I think, it’s bad for me too… I don’t want to say that, but—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me. I know what it’s like to stand in the shadows and walk three steps behind someone. A lot of people aren’t cut out for it,” Maxwell said.

“But you are?”

“It helps to not be shagging the bloke.”

“You know I always thought you didn’t like me very much,” Dan said.

“I don’t, but I’d take a bullet for my prince.” Maxwell’s lips tipped up into the shadow of a smile. “Though I didn’t realize that bullet was going to look like… how did you phrase it? Like Winnie-the-Pooh fucked Slenderman.”

Dan let out a broken laugh. “Jesus, you saw that?”

“The prince wanted me to see how talented you are,” he said flatly.”

“No wonder you can’t stand me.” Dan tucked his hands in his pockets, nervously fidgeting his fingers until he worked up the courage to say. “Maxwell?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t… Jesus, don’t call me…” Dan rubbed his face. _You can do this. You can say this. For Phil._ “I have to leave.”

Maxwell shrugged his shoulders. “Alright…”

Dan was confused for a moment, but then realized Maxwell thought Dan meant he was leaving his room. “No. I mean, I have to go,” he said, forcefully. “You have to help me _go_.”

Maxwell drew his shoulders back. “I can’t.”

“You said you’d take a bullet for Phil.”

“A bullet,” he said through his teeth. “I didn’t say I’d go behind his back… or, or break his heart.”

Dan felt a burn in his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t give into it. He couldn’t. This was a mess. All he could do was try his best to not make it any worse. Staying would make it so much worse.

“They’ll eat him alive, Maxwell. Every single day that I’m here skulking around like his… fuck, I don’t even know what I’d be. They already… I can’t. _He_ can’t. It won’t work. Everyone here knows that. They just don’t know how to say it.”

“Why don’t you talk to him about it before you make any rash decisions?”

“Because if I see him again, I won’t fucking go. And I _need_ to go.”

There was a long pause, then Maxwell let out a breath, his voice lowered. “I can have you on a plane within the hour. Where do you want it to take you?”

It was best he figured, to get out of the country.

“New York,” Dan said. “So, how are we going to get out of here without being seen?”

“London’s secret underground tunnels, of course,” Maxwell replied simply.

“ _What?_ ”

“Welcome to the Matrix, Leo.”


	36. Chapter 36

_Dear Phil,_

_I don’t know what to say to you besides I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened, that something so special and private to us was put on display for the world, and I’m sorry for how difficult it makes your life. And I’m sorry I can’t do what you need me to do. I understand why you need me to do it and I don’t blame you, but I can’t. If you hate me for not saying goodbye in person, I understand. I just know that all it would take is one word from you and I’d stay. We’d end up living lives that would break our hearts over and over again. Not just this once. Tell the public whatever you need to tell them. I won’t contradict you. If you can do me one last favor just remember that you’re a good man. You’re gentle and generous and tender-hearted. The world needs that now more than ever._

_I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I am sorry,_

_Dan_

 

Dan left that note for Phil on the dresser in the guest room, held under a marble paperweight. He grabbed his suitcase, and peered into the hall to make sure no one was out there. When he was sure he was alone, he crept as quietly as he could down the corridor, remembering Maxwell’s instructions. _Turn left at the end of the hall. Three doors down. Right side. Powder room. Move the rug under the sink. Open the latch and climb down._

Dan found the powder room and the rug. As he slowly pulled back the rug, he had a thought that made his stomach sink. What if Maxwell was just fucking with him? Secret underground tunnels sounded pretty far fetched, but there it was. A small brass lock. Dan unlatched it and lifted up the hatch. There was a ladder that lead into darkness.

He froze. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. Maybe he should go back to that guest room and tear up that note and Phil would never have to know he ever thought about leaving because he didn’t want to. God, Dan didn’t want to leave Phil, to end things between… but he had to. He really had to. Phil had these like ancient, Arthurian responsibilities. Even if Dan couldn’t fully understand them and their importance, he could appreciate how Phil saw it the way he did, and Dan didn’t fit into that. He couldn’t cram himself in to the picture like the missing piece his gran had tried to replace in her favorite jigsaw puzzle.

There were footsteps in the hall. Dan startled. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it now.

So he did. He shoved everything he was feeling so deep down inside him he was feeling nothing at all. He knew how to do feeling nothing at all.

Dan shoved his suitcase down the hatch, then climbed down the ladder. The rungs were damp and slippery, and he had to balance precariously on them as he reached up to pull the hatch shut again. There was nothing he could do about the misplaced rug, though.

Everything was dark now. He was enveloped in it, swallowed by it, and his heart was pounding so hard he could feel it punching against his ribs. All he could do is feel out his steps with his hands and his feet until he felt solid ground beneath him and stepped down.

Water splashed around his feet. He was stood in a puddle and he couldn’t see to know if stepping one way or another would be even worse. Dan was tense all over, forgetting to breathe, as he stood in this dark space surrounding by nothing as far as he could tell but the slow drip of water.

Something heavy fell on his shoulder. Dan shrieked. A hand fell tight over his mouth cutting off the sound.

“Shut up.” Maxwell hissed in his ear. “Jesus Christ.”

Dan’s rising panic dwindled as Maxwell slowly dropped his hand away. “Sorry,” Dan whispered.

Maxwell just sighed, and then there was a click and a beam of light illuminated the tunnels.

“Shit,” Dan said, staring out at the maze ahead of him.

“Didn’t say this would be easy.” Maxwell cleared his throat. “We need to start moving.” He pushed past Dan and gestured for Dan to follow him, which Dan did gladly, dragging his rolling suitcase along behind him. It made him feel silly, rushing along with that thing, but he did not want to fall behind in this darkness.

As they walked on, the tunnels grew smaller and Dan had to hunch down. Water was spitting from the rocks, dripping on Dan’s hair and sliding down his neck under the collar of his jacket. He was shivering, the smell of growing mold was so overwhelming it was starting to make him dizzy.

“How far do we have to walk?”

“Farther,” Maxwell said. “This way.” He gestured again, for Dan to take a right down an even narrower corridor.

Ahead, a rat scurried out of the light from Maxwell’s torch and into the darkness. Dan shuddered. He hated the idea that there were rats around him, able to crawl near his feet without him ever being the wiser.

Not wanting to think about the rats anymore, Dan spoke, “I had no idea all this was down here.”

“Neither did the Germans.”

“What?”

“We hid art down here. During World War Two. To keep the Nazis from burning it.”

 _What’s with these people and World War Two?_ Dan thought, but then he kept thinking and found it hard not to picture these important works of art shrouded in canvas and these moss-grown stone walls.

“Most of these tunnels were built during the first world war, some of them were even used as railways to deliver the post.”

“And some belong to Gringotts,” Dan said with an awkward laugh.

“And some,” Maxwell said. “Like this one, are far older than the world wars.”

“How old?” Dan hurried along, trying to catch up with Maxwell.

“This tunnel is at least as old as the 14th century, but since then, it’s only been accessible within the past two years.”

Dan was almost afraid to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “Why’s that?”

“They ran out of room, and it was also… demoralizing to see it, the vast scope of it.”

“The vast scope of what?”

“The victims claimed by the Black Death,” Maxwell said. “So, at night, city official ordered the bodies of the dead—the orphans, and the ones that had lost the rest of their family—brought out at night when everyone was asleep so they could be hidden where no one would see.”

“Hidden where?” Dan asked.

“You know where.”

He did. _Here._ Right where he was standing.

Dan kicked a rock, then wondered if it was a rock at all. “There a reason you’re trying to scare the shit out of me?”

“The fact that I’m going to get fired for helping you not reason enough?”

“Phil’s not going to fire you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Howell. And even if he doesn’t, the queen will and she’ll have no misgivings about it.”

“Maxwell, I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. Don’t. The prince and his safety were my responsibility, and I let him down.”

“That asshole pap was not his fault.”

“I’m not talking about the photographer. I’m talking about letting him get involved with you.”

Dan wanted to snap at Maxwell, tell him to shut the fuck up, but there would be no sting in it, no point, because he knew Maxwell was right. Knew the trouble he’d caused Phil, even if it had been the last thing he’d meant to do.

Suddenly, Maxwell stopped and Dan almost crashed into the back of him.

“Why are you stopping?” Dan hissed.

Maxwell turned his torch to the wall, illuminating carvings in the stone. “You wanted to know how old these tunnels were.”

“14 century. You told me,” Dan said, but then looked at the words lit up on the stone. _Astra inclinant, sed non obligant._ “Is that Latin?”

“The stars incline us, they do not bind us,” Maxwell said. “These tunnels—they were built by the Romans. Prince Martyn was the first to show me down here, and I’m going to say to you what he said to me, ‘these tunnels have been here long before us and they’ll be here long after us. We just get to walk through them.” He turned with his torch again, and illuminated another ladder. “You’ve still got to go about a block to your left. Keep your head down so know one notices you, and eventually, you’ll see it.”

“See what?”

“I’ve got a friend who’s a helicopter pilot. Owes me a favor.”

“Oh… okay.” Dan walked to the ladder and put a hand on the cold metal. He looked back at Maxwell. “Thanks. I’m sorry for—”

“Just get the hell out of here, alright?”

Dan gave him a curt nod and climbed the ladder. He pushed his way up through a manhole cover. Maxwell passed his suitcase up behind him. In a dark alley, Dan looked around to make sure no one was watching him and he kicked the cover back over the hole.

He started walking left. He walked and walked, and Maxwell was right. There it was. A black helicopter sat down in a vacant lot. The wind was cold and he tugged his damp coat around himself tighter, but it didn’t help.

The door opened a woman hopped out. She was tall with short, dark hair and brown skin, and her hand was tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket. Seeing as it was nighttime, the aviators covering her eyes must’ve been serving as a kind of disguise. Though it felt silly, seeing how much they stuck out like sore thumbs regardless.

Dan started to speak, “I’m—“

“I know who you are, Dan. Everyone knows who you are,” she said. “Come on. Hurry up. Get in.”

Dan walked past the woman as she directed. He hefted his suitcase into the helicopter and pulled himself in after it.

“Climb in the back,” she commanded, lifting her aviators. “Don’t need you fucking up any of the controls. Nice suitcase, by the way.” It didn’t sound like a sincere compliment.

He looked down at his moist, rolling suitcase and frowned. He shoved the suitcase behind his chair and then sat down in it.

The helicopter door slammed shut and the pilot sat down in her seat and started punching away at the buttons, flipping switching and turning dials.

A loud roar erupted around them as the propellers began to chop through the air.

“Buckle up, Howell!” she shouted over the sound.

Heart pounding, Dan fussed with his harness, finally getting it snapped together after a few tries. Then, he felt the helicopter lift, and his stomach flipped as the rose quickly into the air.

“We can’t get to New York in this thing, can we?”

“Course not!”

“Then, where the hell are we going?”

“If I told you that, I’d be in worse trouble than I’m already in.”

“Why are you doing this for me anyway?” Dan shouted over the sound, his voice already feeling hoarse. “I don’t even know your name.” The helicopter turned sharply. Dan gasped. “Fuck!” He gripped onto the wall as if that was going to bloody help.

“Mary Shaw, but you can call me Shaw, and I’m not doing it for you. Doing it for Maxwell. What I want to know is why he called in this favor for _your_ twinky ass.”

“ _Hey._ ”

“Ay, I’m just fucking with you. Well, about the twinky ass thing. I really have no fucking clue why of all the damn things Maxwell chose _this,_ especially when I know his head’s on the chopping block for it.”

Another sharp turn and this time Dan squeaked.

The pilot laughed.“I can barrel roll this thing if you want?”

“You can’t barrel roll a helicopter!” _Can you?_

She took one more sharp turn, then their altitude raised. Dan took the moment of respite to look out the window, to see the light of London beneath them, twinkling into the distance like stars being put out one by one, and then, all at once. Now, there was nothing left but darkness. Darkness and the real stars.

After about an hour, Shaw called back to him. “Hold onto your twinky ass. Gonna be a choppy landing.”

The helicopter lowered and it shook as it did, the wind yanking it back and forth. Dan was holding his breath, gripping his fingers into his jeans. _We’re going to crash. We’re going to goddamn crash._

What if this was all a trick? What if Maxwell sent him out with this woman to get in an accidental crash and be rid of him entirely? At the last second was Shaw going to parachute outof here to safety while he went plummeting to his death?

But before he could plummet to this death, the helicopter landed and Dan finally breathed again.

The propellers slowed, that loud roar fading out so the only sound left was the ringing in Dan’s ears.

“Well, come on, lad.” Shaw hopped out of her seat and pushed open the door. “Can’t wait around all day.”

Dan followed her out of the helicopter, taking his suitcase along with him. He hopped down into two inches of snow.

Shaw eyed his luggage. “That shit really does make you look like a wanker.”

“It’s a suitcase… it’s a _normal_ suitcase.” He looked around. It was white and flat as far as he could see and he was freezing his balls off. “Where the fuck are we?”

“It’s a field.”

“I know it’s a fucking… why are we in a fucking field?”

“Keep your voice down,” Shaw whispered. “Jesus Christ, mate. We’re on thin ice here. Pun intended.”

They started walking through the snowy field, and Dan was pulling his suitcase along behind him. It made a strange squelching noise as it smushed through the snow. Shaw just gave Dan and his suitcase another look of disgust and carried on.

By the time, Dan spotted a chainlink fence—and a runway, and a small blue airplane hanger—he couldn’t feel any of his extremities. He could be home right now, cozy and asleep in bed. He could be back at Kensington Palace, waiting for Phil—or maybe even wrapped up in his arms _right now._ But he wasn’t, he was trudging through snow with his bloody suitcase, looking like—according to Shaw—a wanker.

They got to the chainlink fence and stopped.

“So where do we go from here?” Dan asked.

“We climb,” Shaw said.

“ _What?_ There’s barbed wire.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and started to scale the fence. Dan just stood there in a kind of dumb shock. When Shaw got near the top, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a pair of intense-looking wire cutters and cut through the barbed wire. Carefully, she pushed it back, leaving them an open space.

Dan swallowed. “We’re not supposed to be here, are we?”

“You’re a bright one, aren’t ya? Now, pass up the damn suitcase.”

Hesitantly, Dan lifted his suitcase up and passed it to Shaw. She dropped it down off the other side, then jumped off herself, padding into the snow.

“What the fuck’s taking you so long?” she hissed.

Dan drew in a deep breath. He hadn’t climbed a fence since he was a kid, but there wasn’t much else for him to do now but go along. He started to scale the fence, up probably eight feet, then straddled it, to slowly climb back down.

Shaw clapped him on the shoulder. “Eh, atta boy. He lived. Now, come on.”

They started walking along, towards that blue hanger. “I’m really curious what exactly your plan is here,” Dan said.

“Oh, we’re going to steal a plane.”

“We’re going to _what_?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Will it make you feel any better if I tell you we’re going to give it back?”

“ _No._ ”

“Huh.” She shrugged. “Made me feel better. Now give me a hand why don’t ya?”

“What do you want me to do?”

Shaw looked up at small open window over a locked door. “I want you to boost me up.”

“You want me to boost you up?” Dan let out a breath and knelt down, locking his fingers together. Shaw stepped onto the makeshift platform and he helped shove her up so she could climb in through the window.

A few moments later, the door clicked open.

“Who the hell are you in anyway?” Dan asked as he stepped into the hanger.

“I told you.” She smiled, like even though she said she didn’t want to be doing this, she was having a grand old time. “I’m Mary Shaw, and that…“—she pointed at an unmarked white airplane behind her—“is your ticket to freedom.”

“You know how to fly that thing?”

“Honey, I can fly anything.” Mary walked over to the plane and started shaking the door. “Damn thing’s locked though… Howell, you got a bobby pin?”

“No, I don’t have a bobby pin!” Dan snapped. He was six foot three of nerves and cold and exhaustion at this point.

“Touchy. Alright.” Shaw chewed on her thumbnail as she studied the door. “What about a credit card? An ID or something?”

Dan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed her his bank card. “Here.”

She took the card and jammed it into the small space between the door and the rest of the plane. Shaw just kept moving it around there as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“How long is this gonna take?”

“More time if you can’t keep your flap from flapping.”

Dan just pressed his lips together and crossed his arms over his chest. A few moments later, he heard a click and then, “Fuck yeah. Am I good or am I good?”

“Who’s there?” a deep voice echoed through the hanger.

“Hide,” Shaw hissed at him.

 _Hide where?_ Dan thought, then practically dove behind the plane’s engine.

“Who the fuck—?” the voice boomed out. “Anyone who’s in here unauthorized is in violation of like about seventeen different laws and you will be prosecuted.”

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Dan was so goddamn fucked.

“Good evening,” Shaw said, giving away their position.

Dan squeezed his eyes shut, grit his teeth. _What the fuck is she doing?_

“Shaw?” the voice said. “I’ll be damned. It’s Mary Shaw. I thought you were dead. What the fuck you doing here?”

“Stealing a plane?”

_Jesus Christ._

“Jesus Christ. Are you— you know I can’t let you do that.”

“I know.”

“Shaw, what the—" the man said, and then _thud._

 _“_ Howell, come out of there,” she said. “We’re burning moonlight.”

Dazed, Dan stumbled out from behind the airplane engine. A man was lying on the concrete, eyes closed.

“Oh my God!” Dan gasped. “Oh my God. What did you do?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine in a few hours,” Shaw said as she stuffed a rag into her pocket. She ran over to some controls on the far wall and pulled down a lever. With a loud metallic screech, the hanger door began to open. She ran back to the plane and climbed in.

With a shake of his head, Dan grabbed his luggage and followed her in. “Does this thing even have fuel in it?”

“It was scheduled for take-off in like two hours. Not far from where you’re headed so we should be good.”

“Should be?”

“Yeah. Should be.”

Dan grimaced. “It’s an eight hour flight, and you don’t even have a co-pilot.”

“If Amelia Earhart could fly around the world in nineteen—”

“Amelia Earhart didn’t make it around the world and she _had_ a co-pilot.”

Shaw looked around and, as providence would have it, there was a blue pilot’s hat left on one of the seats. She picked it up and whacked it down on his head.

“So do I,” she said and opened the cockpit door. “Now, stop your bellyaching and sit your—-”

“I’m sitting my twinky ass down. I know. I know.”

Shaw shut the door to the plane and then hopped into the pilot’s seat and buckled in. Just like in the helicopter, she started to do all sorts of things with the controls. Eventually the plane started to move, and Dan stopped breathing again. Slowly, the plane rumbled out of the hanger and onto the tarmac then down to the runaway where it picked up speed, moving faster and faster, holding Dan back against the seat as the plane lifted into the air.

When their altitude finally leveled out, Shaw said, “Settle in there, Howell. We got a long flight ahead of us.”

How could he just settle in? He couldn’t because he barely had any idea how he’d ended up here, flying away from Phil in plane Dan was pretty sure he technically stole from him. He wanted to open his eyes and wake up. He wanted it all to be a nightmare, but it wasn’t.

It was all fucking bananas, but that, unfortunately, didn’t make it any less real. And if this was real, the hurt that was coming, when all the fear and adrenaline leaked out, that hurt was going to be real too.

 

About eight hours later, they landed, and it wasn’t until they were on the ground, the plane at a complete stop that Shaw said, “I can’t believe I didn’t crash. I’m an even better pilot than I thought.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mate, look around you. I just landed this giant ass plane without air traffic control in the middle of a goddamn field.”

Dan squinted out the window and looked at the rolling brown grass and sparse trees around him.

“Where the fuck are we?”

“Upstate New York. Sorry. It was as close as I could get you. We better get going, by the way. There’s no way the Yanks didn’t see me flying in their airspace unauthorized. We’re lucky we didn’t get…”—Shaw whistled and then mimed something exploding.

Dan felt the blood drain out of the face and his voice squeaked, “That was a risk factor here?”

“A minor one.”

They hurried out of the plane, still carting Dan’s luggage along with them, and made for the trees for the cover to avoid being spotted. Eventually, they came upon a farm, with a barn and some old vehicles parked along side it.

“You some kind of lucky charm, kid?”

“Huh?” Dan felt anything but lucky. He was exhausted and wet and broken-hearted. And a criminal now, he figured.

“The motherlode.” Shaw pointed at the row of vehicles ahead of them, and then jogged towards them.

Dan let out a breath, then jogged to keep up with her. “We’re not stealing a car!”

Shaw stopped in her tracks and gave him a lock. “You stole a plane, and grand theft autois where you draw the line?”

“ _You_ stole a plane.”

“You chloroformed a government official,” she said.

“That was _also_ you.”

“Fine, so we both share some of the blame. That’s neither here nor there, but if we don’t get out of here soon, we’re screwed.”

Dan frowned because he knew she was right, but he really had met his crime-spree limit. “We don’t even have the keys.”

“Keys.” She grinned and pat his cheek. “God, Howell, you’re adorable.”

Shaw pulled out the bank card he’d let her borrow earlier and hadn’t returned. Knowing her, he should probably make sure to get it back. She did some weird shit to the door of an old pick-up truck just like she had with the plane and it finally popped open.

“Dan, you’re look out.” With that, she climbed into the car and under the dashboard

Nervously, Dan tapped his foot, while he waited, scanning the area for the any signs of people. Thankfully, it seemed they were alone. _Lucky,_ he thought bitterly.

The truck started up. “Mary Shaw, you’re a genius,” she said, then climbed back out of the truck. “You’re all set there, Howell. Take that dirt road east and you’ll hit the highway eventually.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

“Nah. From here on out, it’s best we split up. Less chance we both get caught.”

“I don’t have a license.”

“A top-notch badass, this one. Really,” Shaw said. “Oh relax, it’s easy, mate. Just drive on the wrong side of the road.”

There was nothing else to do, so Dan just gave her an awkward nod. She bent down and grabbed his suitcase for him, tossing it into the bed of the truck. That felt about as close to an offer of friendship as he was going to get, but then Shaw just looked at him and there was something new about it, something soft.

“So you know, my girlfriend thinks you’d be great with the prince.”

“And you?”

“Eh, I don’t know. You’re not bad for a nervous white boy with a twinky ass.”

“You know I’m too old to be a twink, right?”

She patted his shoulder. “Don’t do yourself like that, Howell.”

He just shook his head. “Thanks, anyway, Shaw, for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Dan let out a little laugh, but then Shaw pointed a finger at him, her voice flat. “I’m serious. Don’t mention it. We’ll both go to prison.”

“Right,” he said. “Oh, can I have bank card back?”

She looked disappointed, but handed it to him. “Just be careful about using it, if you don’t want to be tracked. It could be.”

With that, Dan climbed into the driver’s seat and rumbled off through the brown grass towards the dirt road. He did his best to keep Shaw’s words in mind: _it’s easy, mate. Just drive on the wrong side of the road._

 

It took about two hours of sleep-deprived, wrong side of the road driving before Dan was crossing the bridge into New York City. The grey skyline cutting out of the afternoon sky made a sense of relief wash over Dan, despite everything, despite the stolen plane and the stolen car and the scene he was imagining taking place all the way back across that ocean when Phil found his letter and everyone knew he was gone.

When he found a lot with a free space, Dan parked the truck. He almost stepped out of it, but then a thought came over him. _What if people see me?_

The news of him and the prince had obviously spread farther than just the UK. It wasn’t the best disguise in the world, but he dug around in the backseat and found a worn Ford baseball cap and a Carhart jacket. Nothing like he would normally wear. It was big enough to tug on over his own coat. He climbed out of the truck, grabbed his luggage and walked and walked and walked until he was standing on Nick Jonas’s doorstep.

He knocked on the door. While waiting, he took his baseball cap off, so Nick could more easily recognize him. But then, suddenly, he was overcome with the absolute terror of what Nick might do when he did recognize him. Nick might still be pissed at him. Nick might turn him away or turn him in. A part of Dan was saying just to run, but he had nowhere to run to. This was it.

The door opened and there he was. Nick. T-shirt, basketball shorts, a little scruff and wide eyes full of shock.

“Nick,” breathless, was all Dan managed to say.

Without hesitation, Nick yanked Dan into the house and pulled him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around Dan, just holding him. Not angry, not pushing him away. Just holding him, so Dan held onto him back.

“Dan. Dan. Oh, God. Are you okay? I was so fucking worried. I tried to call like a hundred times.”

“I. I know. I’m sorry. They took my phone.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nick pulled back a little just to put his hands up on Dan’s shoulders and look him in the face. “Jesus, you’re okay?”

Dan nodded. “I’m fine. I mean… I’m _not_ fine, but…”

“I know. Shit, how could you be?” Nick dropped his hands down. “Are you just like hiding away for a while or—”

Dan shook his head. “No, I mean. I don’t know. I think…” This was hard to say. So goddamn hard to say. “Fuck, Nick. It’s over. I… ended it.” He had. It had been his choice and he just walked away from Phil. Was he a terrible person? Dan didn’t know anymore.

Nick put a hand on his upper arm and squeezed. The touch was familiar, grounding. Dan leaned into it, “Jesus, Dan. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t blame you, though. All those rules, all that attention. I’m famous and I can’t even imagine.”

“No, Nick. I… they wanted me to be like…” he felt ashamed to even say this. Embarrassed to let Nick know… he didn’t know how he’d react. “So Phil could have a queen and heirs or whatever, they wanted me to be his… his secret side ho or something.”

Nick dropped his hand away from Dan. “I’m going to kick his ass,” Nick growled through his teeth. “I’m going to walk straight the fuck in there and kick his _actual_ ass!”

“Can you please… just… It’s not like it was his idea. He just didn’t exactly object and I get it.. I get it. I just… I can’t.”

Nick took a deep breath, like he was trying to temper back his anger. “Of course, you can’t.”

If Dan was ashamed earlier, he was really fucking ashamed of this. Still, he needed to tell someone. And Nick was Nick. Peel it all back, strip everything else away and there was Nick.

“But the thing is… I wanted to,” Dan admitted.

Nick looked at him softly. So softly, Dan felt like they both might just float away. And then, Nick brought Dan into his arms again. Dan couldn’t help it. He’d held it in all this time, all the way across the ocean, but he couldn’t hold the tears in anymore. He couldn’t. They spilled from his eyes and dripped down his cheeks.

“It’s okay.” Nick clung onto him even tighter. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”


	37. Chapter 37

It took a while for Dan to stop crying, for Dan to let the touch of his best friend ground him enough that he could move. It was awkward and uncomfortable just standing here by the door, grabbing onto each other.

Dan drew in a shaky breath and sniffed. “Sorry, God. You don’t need me to come upend your life like this…” Dan started to pull away. “I should—”

Nick stopped him, hands on his shoulders. “You’re not doing anything but staying right the fuck here, alright? You’re fine. You’re fine. I mean you smell terrible but—”

“ _Hey.”_ Dan backed away from Nick, so his hands slipped from Dan’s shoulders.

“Well, you do.”

Dan sniffed the worn old Carhart jacket he was wearing. It smelled like diesel fuel an someone else’s BO. “If you knew what I’d been through you’d be surprised I don’t smell worse.”

Nick tugged on the Jacket’s sipper. “Also, what the hell are you wearing?”

“Clothes I found in the truck I stole.”

“ _Jesus._ ”

“It’s a long ass story,” Dan said.

“I’m going to make you tell me at some point, but seriously,”—Nick waved his hand in front of his nose— “you should shower…”

Of course Nick was right, but Dan’s head was still spinning with other thoughts. “I need to make some calls though and I don’t have my phone. I need to talk to my mum and Emily.”

“They texted me to see if I’d heard from you,” Nick said. “I hadn’t at the time.”

“Can I borrow your phone?”

“Shower first. Then, call. You remember where everything is, right?”

Dan nodded. He’d stayed with Nick before when he’d come to visit him. “Thanks.” With that, Dan started to walk away.

“Hey, Dan?” Nick’s voice stopped him.

Dan turned back to look at Nick, whose head was tucked down, whose hands were restless in his pockets.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad this is where you decided to come.”

Dan took a shower, doing his best to scrub away the day. He was done. He was glad he smelled like Nick’s expensive soap. It made the rest of his life feel further away, and Dan wanted to keep it at arms length. He felt like there losing Phil wouldn’t hurt as much. At the same time, he knew losing Phil would hurt no matter what he did. It would always hurt. Every day in its own way. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d seen Phil last, but still, he knew it would be true.

He dried off and borrowed some clothes from Nick since his were all soggy. Just a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. He expected them to be too small, but they weren’t. Nick was pretty broad. Everything was just a little shorter on him.

Dan tugged on the t-shirt. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Nick smiled. “No problem.”

“Can I also borrow your phone?”

Nick pulled his cell out of his pocket and handed it to Dan. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, then walked out of room.

Dan took a deep breath and looked for his mum’s name in Nick’s phone. He was glad that his mum and Nick had hit it off as friends when they’d met otherwise he’d be screwed right now. He didn’t have anyone’s phone number memorized.

It rang and almost immediately, his mum answered, “Nick? Have you heard from Daniel, yet?”

“Hey, Mum,” Dan said tentatively. “It’s me.”

“Are you alright, Daniel?” His mum was always controlled, steadfast. This was the most frantic he’d ever heard her sound.

“Yes. I’m… I’m okay, I guess.” He wasn’t okay. He was tired and brokenhearted. He was a disaster who’d made a disaster of everything.

“You’re in the states?” she asked, sounding more at ease, more like herself.

“Yeah, I’m with Nick.”

“The prince’s people contacted me today. I cannot believe—”

“I know, Mum. I’m sorry.” He hated that his mum had to get dragged into this. It had absolutely nothing to do with her and it was completely unfair.

“They said I should stay inside. That I shouldn’t go to work for a while. There are reporters outside.”

Dan felt his face go hot. “People need to mind their own fucking… you had nothing to do with—”

“I’ll live, Daniel,” his mum said. “If I run into reporters, I’ll just say ’no comment’. You should do the same, you know? Let the royal family make any official announcements.”

“Yes, mum. Do you think dad will say—”

“I don’t know, dear. Let’s hope not…” she cleared her throat. “So, you and the prince, huh?”

“Yeah… but not anymore.” _Not anymore._ The thought alone made him woozy. He wanted so desperately for it not to be over. But it was. It was.

“That’s probably for the best.”

Dan let out a breath. “Look, Mum. I’ve had a long day… I’ll call you later, okay? I’m sorry about all this.”

“I love you, you know?”

“Yeah, Mum. I know. You too.” The words were difficult now, and he felt like he was going to cry. His eyes were already puffy and stinging. He didn’t want to cry anymore.

Dan considered taking a break with the calls. He already felt pushed to his last limit of talking, but it wasn’t fair to keep Emily waiting any longer, not when he could actually contact her now. So he just pushed through all the voices in his head telling him to just give up and go to sleep, and called her.

She answered, “Hey, still haven’t heard from Dan—”

“Em, it’s me,” Dan interrupted, then was met with a long stretch of silence.“Em? Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m still fucking here,” she snapped. “What were you thinking?”

“I should have told you.”

“You’re bloody fucking right you should’ve told me! You _kissed_ him, and bloody fuck outside.”

Her cursing wasn’t making much sense, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to point that out to her right now.

“It was stupid,” he conceded, unsure what else to do.

“It was goddamn daft, is what it was.”

“I _know_.”

Emily let out a heavy breath. “This is a mess, Dan. And I have absolutely no clue how to dig you out of it. None. No bloody idea. It’s not like you can just go back to the way things were. You can’t work, Dan. You can’t make videos, you can’t tweet, instagram. Any of it. This is all the matters now. Everything you wanted and worked for and you gave it all up for what? A kiss… a _shag_?”

“Emily, stop!” Dan gripped his free hand in his hair. “Just leave me alone, alright? I get it. I fucking get it.”

He really didn’t need to be raked over the coals right now. He just couldn’t take it.

“I can’t fix this for you.” Her voice was less sharp now. It something else… something that frightened Dan even more. It was resigned. “I could try, but unlike you, I’m willing to admit when I’m in over my head.”

“Em, what are you—”

“You didn’t tell me. I needed to know and you didn’t tell me. This is the kind of stuff I _have_ to know to do my job and you… just didn’t tell say a damn word. You didn’t trust me. You have to be able to trust me.”

“I knew you’d tell me to stop seeing him,” Dan said, and was well aware of how much like a child he sounded.

“You still should’ve—”

“You would’ve lost your shit.”

“Yeah… and I think you know why. Look at your life, right now? Dan, you’re my friend. Above everything else, I thought that was true and I know why you didn’t tell me. But you needed to have told me, and the fact that you didn’t tells me everything I need to know.”

Dan was exhausted and beaten down and she’d used tell too many times for Dan to truly make sense of what was happening. “Emily—”

“I… I can’t be your manager anymore,” she said flatly.

Dan’s stomach dropped, like a falling lift. “ _What?_ ”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I have to go.”

“Em. Em!” he shouted, but she’d ended the call. He was talking to know. “Fucking hell!” Dan spat and slammed Nick’s phone down on the sofa beside him. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he needed it to be.

Nick entered the living room cautiously,“What was that?”

“Em quit.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

Dan rubbed a hand over his face. “Yep.” What was more disaster in a serious of disasters?”

“She knows how to bail at the absolute worst times, doesn’t she?” Nick huffed, then turned to Dan, his expression and voice soft, “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s… it’s whatever at this point.” Dan held out his phone to Nick, feeling numb, head to toe, inside and out.

Nick took the phone from Dan and slipped it in his pocket. “Do you want me to get you something, something to eat? Some water?”

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine, but he didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to just lean into the numbness. “Just, just sit with me, would you?”

“Okay.” Nick gave him a lopsided grin and flopped down beside him on the sofa.

They sat for a moment. Dan wasn’t even sure what they were watching on the telly. He just let it all flash in front of him, let the voices move over him. His eyes started getting droopy, his body started aching and he felt himself drift and drift… the insanity of the last day finally taking its toll on a body completely worn out.

 

“Hey, Dan. Dan?” Nick saying his name gently pulled Dan from sleep.

“Hmm…”Dan replied, sleepily. His slow rise to consciousness made him realize there were fingers in his hair and his cheek was pressed against Nick’s thighs. He’d been asleep with his head in Nick’s lap. Feeling bad about pinning Nick down like that, he started to sit up, “Sorry, I’m—“

“You’re fine.” Nick laid a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. “You don’t have to move. I’m just getting a little hungry and wanted to order some take-out. Chinese good?”

“Mmhm…”Dan settled back down, same place. He was tired, and he was comfortable. It was nice to be close to someone so familiar.

As Dan laid there listening to Nick order food, he looked at the telly. He watched as muted colors moved across the screen. Muted colors and clothes from a long time ago—double-breasted suits and flowing gowns.

“Nick?” Dan said sleepily after Nick had hung up the phone.

“Yeah…?” Nick replied back just as softly. He wasn’t sure he’d ever noticed jus how soft Nick’s voice could be.

Dan yawned. “What movie is this?”

“Oh, it’s just an old musical my mom watched all the time when I was a kid. _High Society_.”

There was a blonde woman on the screen wearing a beautiful gown of sweeping pink chiffon. There was something just… lovely about the way she carried herself. Dan couldn’t help but stare. “She’s really pretty.”

“Yeah.” Nick laughed. “Because that’s Grace Kelly.” There was a moment where everything was silent except for the people speaking on the screen and then, Nick said, “It’s probably not your thing. I can change it.”

“How long’s it been on?” Dan asked, sleepily.

“Just started.” Nick played with one of the curls on top of his head.

“Mm… I wanna watch.” He liked that it was nothing like the shows he’d normally watch, like that it felt like something from an entirely different time. An entirely different place. A world where none of this was happening, where he hadn’t lost the man he loved. He wanted to sink into this world and float away from it. So he just laid there with his head in Nick’s lap and let it.

Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly had gotten a little tipsy and were dancing out by the pool. It was beautiful and soft, a little sexy, for a movie from so long again. The music wasn’t Dan’s kind of music, but it was still making him feel a little floaty as Frank’s deep voice sang,

_Since the dear day of our meeting_

_I've wanted to tell you all I long to do,_

_Dawn is nearing, time is fleeting,_

_Mind if I make love to you?_

He stared at the two of them dancing and thought about Phil. They’d never danced. He doubted they’d dance well. They certainly wouldn’t look like _that._ But he would’ve liked to have tried it at lease once, tried letting their four left feet stumble all over each other.

“If you let me, I'll endeavor.” It was Nick singing along with Sinatra, his fingers still sweeping through Dan’s hair. Sometimes Dan would forget how good Nick’s voice actually was until he was reminded again. “To persuade you I'm your party for two

And from then on, you will never mind

If I make love to you?”

The words stopped and it was just that old soft music.

“Dan,” Nick said. “I…”

Dan turned so he was looking at Nick. “What is it?”

Nick bit his lip, looking down at Dan, brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the door buzzed.

“That’s probably the food,” Dan said.

“Yeah,” Nick said, still staring at him. “I should go get it.”

 

Nick brought in the Chinese and they ate and finished up the movie. They watched another old one that came on after that, _Guys and Dolls._ Apparently. that was one of Nick’s mum’s favorites too. Sinatra was in this one too, but Marlon Brando was the lead.

“He’s a hell of actor, but God, he can’t sing,” Nick said.

“I think he sings fine.”

“He’s hot. You’re confusing the two. Listen to him with your eyes closed.”

“You think Marlon Brando’s hot?” Dan looked over at Nick. “Is he your ‘if I had to pick a dude or something?”

“No,” Nick said. “He’s not.”

 

When the movie was over, Nick told Dan the guest room was all ready for him. Unlike Dan, Nick actually had extra rooms in his apartment. It was a nice room, but it wasn’t all weird and ornate like the room at Kensington Palace had been. It was nice and somewhat familiar. Dan had slept in it before. He said goodnight to Nick and, after Nick left the room, Dan slid into bed.

He laid there in the dark and in the silence, just staring into nothing. He didn’t even have a phone to occupy his mind as the thoughts began to swirl. Had Phil read the note yet? What did he think? Did he hate Dan now? Did he understand why Dan did it? Was he missing Dan right now, the way Phil was missing him?

Did he feel this? This loneliness like an open mouth ready to swallow him.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t stay in here alone. Maybe this was a stupid idea, a bad idea, a _wrong_ idea, but he needed… something. Something other than that open mouth.

Before he could change his mind, he jumped to his feet and padded down the hall to Nick’s bedroom.

“Nick…” Dan whispered as he opened the door.

Nick was still awake, sitting up in his bed, shirtless and reading a dog-eared novel. He looked up at Dan and his eyes went soft. He threw back the covers on the other side of the bed. “Just come to bed.”

Dan walked across Nick’s bedroom floor and slid in beside him. He laid his head back against the pillow and let out a shaky breath.

Nick sat the book he was reading down on his bedside table and turned off his lamp. Darkness fell over the room so only the barest light was coming in around the curtains. It was too dark for Dan to see, but he could feel Nick lie down beside him, and he could hear his slow breaths.

It was hard not to think of lying with Phil in Nottingham Cottage. Hard not to think of the way Phil’s breath sounded. The way it had felt to have held him and been held in return. It was even harder not to think of how he’d never be there again, never hear those breaths or feel those touches. Phil—what he’d had with Phil—was a memory now, and he was so terrified of losing all its pieces.

It would happen one day. His memories of Phil would become more like a dream and less like something that happened. He’d forget the taste of his mouth, the feel of his fingertips against his skin. Dan would forget the things Phil’d say that made him laugh, and Phil would forget him too. Bits of him at least. And if it wasn’t all of him, was it any of him at all?

Dan’s cheeks were wet with tears before he realized he was crying. Realizing just made it worse and soon enough they were soaked.

He felt a warm hand fall on his face, felt a thumb wipe away those streaking tears. Nick’s thumb. _Nick._

Dan tucked himself in close, like maybe that hand on his face, those arms, those breaths. His friend. Nick. _Nick._ Could hold him together, those few remaining pieces he hadn’t left behind with Phil. _One or two_ , he thought _. That’s probably all I have left. One or two aching pieces._

“Nick?” Dan drew in a shaky breath, his mouth against Nick’s chest, knees tucked up so they could fit in the bed like this with Nick above him.

“Yes?” Nick replied, his head leaning on the top of Dan’s.

“How does it feel like this and not kill you?”

It took a moment, but when Nick finally replied, he whispered, “I don’t know. I don’t know, but it doesn’t.”

Dan heard those words and held onto them. If anyone knew how he felt, it was Nick. He’d been down in this place before. He would know the way out.


	38. Chapter 38

Dan woke up with a yawn, his face pressed into Nick’s pillow. Though, over the last three weeks, it had come to feel like _his_ pillow. Especially as he spent so much time in Nick’s bed and not leaving Nick’s apartment. He literally hadn’t left this place since he’d stumbled in through the door after the weirdest, longest day of his life.

He rolled over in bed to see if Nick was there. He wasn’t. No particular surprise. Just like he had at Dan’s, Nick still got up for his morning run more days than not, but Dan was surprised when he noticed Nick’s running shoes and shorts still laid out across his chair. Dan didn’t have too long to be curious about it because the bedroom door opened and Nick walked in wearing jeans and a light jumper.

He was carrying a white box and a tray holding two coffees.

“Hey,” Nick said. “You’re awake.”

Dan sat up and yawned again. “You didn’t go for a run.”

“Nah. Didn’t feel like it. Took a walk though. Got these.” Nick sat the box down on the bed. It was a box of brightly colored iced donuts.

“You don’t eat donuts,” Dan said, blinking.

Nick shrugged as he sat down on the bed beside Dan. “I got ‘em for you. Had eggs this morning, and now I’m going to have coffee. Here’s yours.” Nick handed Dan a disposable cup from the tray he’d sat on the nightstand.

The cup warmed Dan’s hands. “What’d you get me?”

Nick smiled at him and nudged his shoulder. “Cappuccino.”

Dan smiled back, but it was a small thing. All his smiles were small right now. “Thanks, mate. Seriously. You didn’t have to get me this stuff though.”

“I like to.” Nick’s voice was as small as Dan’s smile had been.

Dan took a sip of the cappuccino and then sat in on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He opened the donut box and pulled out a glazed donut covered in a thick pink icing with sprinkles. He took a big bite and accidentally moaned around it. It wasn’t his fault. It was a _really_ good donut.

Nick sniggered and Dan shot him a glare.

“You enjoying that or something?” Nick asked.

“Shut up.”

“You’ve got something…” Nick put a thumb next to Dan’s lips and wiped stray icing off his face. His touch lingered there for a minute and pulled away, and Nick licked the icing off his finger.

“Uh, thanks,” Dan said, putting his own hand to the spot where Nick had just touched. “Do you have to work today?”

“This morning,” Nick said. “I need to go down to the studio. You’re welcome to come.”

Dan snorted. “Oh yeah, that’s a genius idea.”

“You can’t lock yourself away in here forever.”

“Can’t I?”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Nick.” Dan sighed. “I literally can’t go outside and you know it. For one, if anyone sees me, they’re going to lose their fucking shit. For two, I got into this country illegally so you probably _are_ going to have to marry me if I ever want to see the light of day again. Thankfully, I don’t really want to so…”

“Hey man.” Nick laid a hand on Dan’s thigh. “I know this all sucks. But it’s not forever. We’re really going to figure it out.”

“I just wish someone would say something, you know. Phil or Queen Kathryn—someone.” But in three weeks, they hadn’t. They’d been as radio silent as he had.

“Look, Dan. I mean this in… I don’t know… the kindest most understanding way possible, but you can’t wait around for them. Isn’t part of the reason you left because you don’t want them to control your life?”

Dan’s instinct was to prickle at this, to defend himself against Nick accusation, but he knew it wasn’t intended cruelly and he knew that Nick wasn’t wrong.

“I just don’t know what to do and without Emily… maybe she’s right. Maybe I don’t have a career anymore. Maybe this is what my future looks like… lying in your bed stuffing my face with the donuts you buy for me.”

“Well, if that’s your rock bottom, Dan, I think there are worse rock bottoms.”

“Yeah.” Dan pulled another donut out of the box. “This could all be happening and you didn’t buy me donuts”

 

After Nick went to the studio, Dan was once again left alone in the apartment with nothing to do. He’d already watched enough American daytime television. He’d had a lot of first hand experience with who _Judge Judy_ and _Jerry Springer_ actually were. Dan had no idea so many people had slept with their ex’s mother, but apparently it was a statistically significant number.

It was weird not having a phone, other than Nick’s landline. Weird being trapped in like 1998. Nick let Dan use his laptop and he did watch a good amount of Netflix or Crunchy Roll. But this—sitting in his boxer-briefs on the sofa with crisp crumbs cascading down his bare chest chest watching to find out if some poor bastard was the father or not—felt poetic, given the absolute catastrophe of his current situation.

He’d wandered his way into some soap opera where, once again, someone was sleeping with their ex’s mother, though this one it seemed had been thought to be dead for several years. Dan was just getting the gist of things when Nick came back from the studio.

“Oh my God, Dan.”

“What?” Dan asked, eyes still on the screen.

“This has gone too far.”

Dan looked at Nick. “What has?”

“This.” Nick gestured to Dan all sprawled out on the sofa. “You’re turning into a couch potato.” He picked one of the crumbs of Dan’s chest. “Correction: an _actual_ potato.”

“Just dip me in ketchup and end my misery, then.”

“Take a shower, Dan.” Nick reached his hand out to Dan to help him up. “I really feel like I shouldn’t have to tell you that as much as I do.”

Dan rolled his eyes but took Nick’s hand, and let Nick help him to his feet.

“Hey, Dan…?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I talk to you about something when you get out of the shower?”

Dan’s brow furrowed. “Just tell me now.”

“After.”

“But now, I’m going to be anxious while I shower!”

Nick gave him one of those soft smiles, like a blanket he could wrap himself up in. “It’s nothing to be nervous about. I just don’t want to have to smell Sour Cream and Onion the whole time.”

“Whatever,” Dan said. He went and took his shower, but even with Nick’s reassurance he was still nervous the whole time.

He found Nick in the living room after he’d changed into a hoody and pants. His hair was still wet so it was extra curly and occasionally dripping into his eyes.

“Okay, what do you want to talk to me about?” Dan asked.

“We’re going out tonight.”

“Like hell we are!”

“Dan.”

“We’ve had this conversation. Where could I possibly go?”

“So, I was talking to someone at the studio, and they reminded me of something. This place, I mean.”

Dan’s face scrunched up. “What place?”

“A secret place.”

At those words, Dan was brought back to those dark, rat-infested tunnels he’d traversed with Maxwell. “I’ve had my fill of secret places, Nick.”

“Just hear me out, would ya?”

“Are you going to give me a choice?”

“Not really,” Nick said. “So anyway, do you know what prohibition was?”

“…vaguely.”

“In the 1920s it was illegal for people to drink alcohol so there were these secret places called speakeasies hidden in the city where people could party and drink smuggled alcohol.”

Dan was really getting fed-up with all these history lessons. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because some of these places are still around, they’re just not for drinking illegal alcohol.”

Despite himself, Dan was a little intrigued. “Why would they still be around then?”

“For people who want a place where they can be away from cameras and scrutiny. A place for anonymity. For those who need it… like you right now.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah.”

“How would I even get out of the apartment though?” Dan asked. He couldn’t believe he was actually entertaining this idea.

“A disguise, of course.”

“Like a mustache?”

“No, Dan. Not a mustache. This.” Nick opened the duffle he’d carried in coming from the studio. He pulled out two suits—black and brown—two matching fedoras and two masks that looked like they’d covered their faces from the nose up.

“Where the hell did you get all this?” Dan asked.

“The costume shop.”

“I thought you were at the studio?”

“I was, and then I went to the costume shop.”

Dan shook his head and picked up one of the fedoras, then sat it back down. “I am _not_ wearing this.”

“Chill, Dan. It’s not a neckbeard MRA fedora. It’s like an Indiana Jones fedora. An… an Eliot Ness fedora. Totally different and historically accurate.”

Dan held one of the masks over his face. “And then afterwards, it’s turning into the purge or—”

“Don’t make Purge references.”

Dan laughed. “I can’t believe that movie actually scared you.”

“Says the guy who made us sleep with the lights on after we watched _Arsenic and Old Lace_.”

“It was in black and white. That’s inherently scarier.” They’d watched a lot of movies in the last few weeks and Dan had no idea why this one had freaked him out so much, but it had.

“It’s a comedy, Dan.” Nick gestured toward the suits. “Now tell me. Which one do you want. Black or brown?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Black, I guess.”

 

 

Nick called a car. He got in the car and had the driver drive it around the block a few times. Then, Nick texted Dan and he came out—all dressed in this get up. On one hand, Dan felt like a nutter, but on another… well, the black suit was actually pretty nice. It was double-breasted, which was weird, but he was broad enough that it fit him well. He had a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Plus, Dan was wearing the fedora. It had taken some cajoling from Nick, but he’d talked him into it. Said it would hide his face better, even with the matte black masquerade mask covering most of his face.

He sneaked outside and into back seat of the waiting car. Nick was already there, of course. In the brown tweed suit he’d rented. He had a waistcoat, a pocket watch and bow tie. He grinned at Dan from under his gold mask, then reached into his jacket and pulled out flask. He took a sip and then passed it to Dan.

Dan took a sip. It tasted it awful and burned like fire all the way down. “Jesus fuck, what was that?”

Nick laughed. “That my friend is authentic Appalachian moonshine.”

“It’s horrible.”

Nick just smiled and laughed again.

The car made its way through the city, a slow stop-and-go through Manhattan traffic. Dan was surrounded by the lights from the skyscrapers and the honking of horns from impatient drivers. It was weird being outside after so long, almost surreal, overwhelming, the swirl of all the life around him.

Eventually, some of the traffic thinned out. Not much, but enough that it was a noticeable difference. Then, at Nick’s direction, the driver stopped the car. Nick thanked him and handed him a large tip. They stepped out of the car and onto the pavement. The car rumbled away, leaving them alone the street.

“This way,” Nick said.

Dan followed Nick for a blocks. Their get-up earned them a few stares, but mostly they were ignored. Soon enough, they were slipping down a narrow alley alone. The only light came from one flickering almost dizzyingly on the brick wall. Nick stopped in front of a dark wooden door. He rapped his knuckles on the door. After a few moments, a small square of wood beneath iron rods opened.

Nick said, “I have to go see a man about a dog.”

_What the fuck?_

Dan just blinked, standing there in that alley, dressed like an extra in a mob movie, once again shocked he’d ended up in situation so far out of the normal course of his own life.

The door opened slowly and Nick started to step inside. He must’ve noticed Dan was still rooted to the spot so he grabbed onto Dan’s wrist and guided him inside.

The first thing Dan noticed was the jazz music, the swinging, gleeful sound of a time that matched the strange costumes they were wearing. With Nick still holding onto his hand, they walked down a narrow staircase and turned the corner into the club. Despite the costumes and music and the masks, that’s obviously what this was. Maybe more like the nightclub of days past, than the kind of clubs Dan had gone to pick up or get picked up. He felt like he’d walked onto the set of one of those old movies he’d been watching with Nick.

“I love this song,” Nick said in his ear, over the sound of the saxophones.

“What is it?”

“Benny Goodman, ‘Sing, Sing. Sing’.”

“It definitely puts me in the spirit,” Dan replied.

“Speaking of spirits, can I get you a drink?”

“As long as it’s not more of that moonshine.”

Nick laughed. “Eh, get a couple mixed drinks in you and you’ll acquire the taste.”

“We’ll see about that.”

It wasn’t until Nick was dragging him towards the bar that Dan realized they were still holding hands and let the touch between them fall away.

“I’ll have a Gin Rickey,” Nick said to the bartender, then looked at Dan. “You know what you want?”

For some reason—between the music and the swaying, sequined dresses—Dan was speechless.

“He’ll have a Mary Pickford.”

The bartender walked away.

“What the hell’s a Mary Pickford?” Dan asked.

“Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

The bartender brought Dan the drink, and Nick was right. He did like it. It tasted like cherries and rum. They sat there for a moment, sipping their mixed drinks and looking out at the dance floor. It was packed with people dancing, spinning and twirling, and it was like he’d been transported to another time, maybe another dimension.

There was a live band on stage, playing their instruments with passion and abandon.

It wasn’t long before a woman in a flapper’s dress walked up to them. Her hair was cropped and though Dan couldn’t see her eyes, he could see her wine red lips. Her attention was on Nick.

“Care for a dance?” she asked, with shoulders drawn back confidence.

“I’m flattered, but not tonight,” Nick said, surprising Dan.

“No worries. Have fun,” she said, glancing over at Dan and turning away.

“You can dance with her,” Dan said. “I’ll be fine here.”

Nick just ignored his statement. “You want another drink? You downed that one pretty fast.”

There was a little bit of liquid left in Dan’s cup. “Can I try yours?”

Nick handed him the glass and Dan took a sip. “Not bad. A little sour.”

“You and your sweet tooth, Dan. I know what you’d like.” Nick called the bartender over again and ordered something called a ‘bee’s knees’. When Dan took a sip, it tasted like honey and oranges. He liked it more than the first one and felt like he could end up drinking them all night.

And he kind of did… he was on his third when he finally offered to pay.

“I’ve got this round,” Dan said.

Nick laughed. “No you don’t. You don’t have any money.”

“Oh yeah. Right,” Dan said. “Maybe I’ll just have some of that moonshine.”

Nick let out a small laugh then pulled the flask out of his jacket. He handed it to Dan, who took a sip. It didn’t taste as bad this time, so he downed a bit more before giving it back to Nick.

“You’re right. That does grow on you.”

Nick tossed some back himself, before slipping it back in his jacket.

Dan looked back out at the dancers. Everything felt swirlier now, like the room was just spinning with glitter. The band was playing another song. The tempo was quick and cheery, not unlike the song that was playing when they’d first walked into this place.

“Do you know what this song is too?” Dan asked leaning over to Nick. He could hear his words beginning to slur though he mostly had control over them still.

“No.”

“Oh…”

“Hey, Dan?”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause and then, “Do you want to dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Dan replied.

Nick’s lips tipped into a small smile, a sheepish thing. In a way, it reminded him of Phil. “That’s not what I asked. “ Nick stood up from his barstool and pivoted so he was between Dan and the dance floor. He put his hand out. “Dance with me.”

Dan shook his head, not because he was saying no, but because he already felt like an idiot. He was too big and awkward to be a graceful anything. Still, whether it was the compounded sadness of the last few days, the Mary Pickford or the moonshine, Dan put his hand in Nick’s and let Nick drag him out onto the dance floor.

They started to move to the music, and Dan felt like a giraffe. A giraffe that had had far too much white rum.

“I already feel stupid.”

“Oh, come on,” Nick said, still moving, his hands in Dan’s as he hopped from one foot to the other on the beat. He didn’t look an awkward rum drunk giraffe. “Didn’t you ever go to a high school dance?”

Dan snorted. “Yeah, but mostly girls would just twerk on you.”

“I can twerk on you if that would make you more comfortable.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what Cole Shaw Glenn Porter or whoever intended when they wrote this.”

Nick shook his head. “Just shut up and spin me.”

“Spin you? Wait… I’m leading. That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“You’re way too tall for me to spin you. I’d break my arm off.”

“ _Hey,_ ” Dan said, pouting a little, but fine, _whatever,_ he’d spin Nick if that’s what he wanted so badly.

Dan attempted to spin Nick and it worked—sort of—but what little of it that was success had rested on Nick’s balance. In the end, though, Nick still stumbled into Dan, falling forward with his hands on his chest.

Just then, that song—and all its light jauntiness—ended and another came on in its place, a soft slow one, and there was a woman making her way up to the old-style microphone.

Instead of stepping away to the their seats, Dan found himself with his arms around Nick, and Nick’s arms around him. It was hard not to think of that scene from _High Society_ , and the way Grace Kelly and Frank Sinatra had been dancing.

“I’ve got a crush on someone,” the woman sang into the microphone. “Guess who.”

This music was so soft and fluid and Dan was definitely still drunk and it felt less like dancing and more like floating, like if he let go, he could float away to somewhere else and end up in someone else’s arms.

And the it wasn’t just the woman singing, it was Nick’s familiar voice singing along with the words, “I’ve got a crush on you, all the day and nighttime, give me sigh. I never had the least notion that I could fall with such emotion.”

Dan couldn’t see Nick’s eyes when he pulled back. They were hidden behind the mask, but he could still tell Nick was looking at him as they swayed slowly. That music carrying on the background and Nick whispering the lyrics to him in his ear, “could you care, for a cunning cottage we could share, the world will pardon my mush, ‘cause I’ve got a crush, my baby, on you.”

The music was still playing and Nick’s hand slid to his shoulder and then to his cheek where it wasn’t covered by the mask.

“Dan, listen I—”

Suddenly, there were loud sirens, andthe music stopped. People were rushing towards the exits.

“What’s going on?” Dan shouted.

“Raid.”

“What? For what?”

“It’s just part of the experience.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, come on.” Nick grabbed Dan’s hand. “Trust me, if we don’t get out of here fast enough, this whole fake arrest thing goes down. Very strange.”

“ _What?”_

“Just follow me.” Nick yanked on Dan’s hand, dragging him through the bustling crowd towards one of the exits. They were rushing up a flight of rickety stairs, which was difficult when Dan was as drunk as he was. He could still hear the sirens until they burst out the back door and into an alley.

Nick was laughing hard. “Oh my God,” he sputtered.

Dan was blinking. His vision was pretty blurry. “I can’t believe that just…”

“I haven’t had that much stupid fun in God I don’t even know, man,” Nick said.

“Me either, mate.” Dan bumped into Nick. Walking was hard, weirdly harder than running had been. “I’m going to lean on you. I’m wobbly. Wibbly-wobbly.”

Nick laughed, but let Dan lean against them as they were still holding hands. “Thanks for that _Doctor Who_ reference from antiquity.”

Dan gasped. “You watched _Doctor Who_? Like I told you to?”

“Our relationship is turning me into a nerd. It’s gross.”

They continued on down the street under the scaffoldings until they were back under the night sky. When Dan looked up, he couldn’t see a single star from all the bright city lights. The blankness of it was strangely beautiful. There was music playing from one of the buildings. It was one of Nick’s songs— _Under You._

“Hey! It’s you, Nick. Oh my God. It’s you.”

“Shh, Dan.” Nick laughed. “People are looking.”

“Who cares we’re wearing masks! We’re invisible."

They were still holding each other for support, but Dan was pretty sure Nick was doing most of the supporting. God, the alcohol had gone to his head. Dan started drunkenly singing out the lyrics, “Knowing that you left, messes with my head, shadows of you haunt me now! I’ll never, never get over not getting under you. Under you!”

Nick put his free hand over Dan’s mouth. “Shut up. You ridiculous drunk.”

Dan lowered his voice, stopped singing. Nick was right. He was pretty tipsy, his inhibitions lowered too. “Hey, Nick, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” Nick shrugged. They were close enough that Dan could feel it.

“Is every song on that album about Em?” Dan asked.

Nick was silent, and Dan realized he probably fucked up by mentioning her.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“No,” Nick finally answered, cutting Dan off. “Most of them are but no… not all of them.”

Dan dropped Nick’s hand and walked backwards until he was ahead of Nick and looking back at him. He gave Nick a cheeky grin. “The dick shippers think that song is about us, you know?”

“ _Under You_? Nah, I wrote that when I first met Emily.”

Dan giggled and threw a hand to his chest. “Wow, Nick. Way to kill a man’s dreams.”

Nick’s mouth just curled up into a small smile. He’d been drinking too, but he didn’t seem quite as drunk as Dan felt.

“Remember,” Nick’s voice was low, “Remember that guy you started dating like, like a couple months after we met? Henry?”

Dan stumbled forward, blocking Nick’s path forward. He was really feeling all that vodka from the mixed drinks. “You wrote a song about my ex-boyfriend?” Dan could hear his words slurring but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

“No, I—“

“Because he’d probably love that.” Dan cringed. “Ugh, he was such a vain twat. Do you remember what a vain twat he was, Nick?” Dan threw his arms around Nick’s neck. Their height difference was kind of fun. “Of course you do. You wrote a song about it.”

“Dan,” Nick tugged on Dan’s shirt, his hand against Dan’s sternum. “I think you’re very drunk.”

Dan grinned. It had been a while since he smiled like that. The alcohol had loosened his mouth in a lot of ways. “I am and guess what?”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“It’s your job to sober me up.”

They continued down the street, and Nick had to pull Dan out of the way of a few other pedestrians and hold him back at a crosswalk or two, but eventually Dan was starting to feel a little better—and that was when Nick pointed out a Shake Shack and they ended up laughing their way through an order for a ridiculous amount of food for two people—a variety of burgers and chips and Dan got a stupid huge milkshake that was almost guaranteed to make him sick.

When they made it back to Nick’s apartment, they were tearing out of their costumes, giggling. They were both standing around in their pants and tugging on sweatpants and hoodies. “I have an idea,” Nick said, tugging his hoody on.

“What?”

“We should go up to the roof.”

“We can get up to the roof?”

“Uh huh. The view is incredible and the only other tenant with access is in Paris for a month. Come on.”

Dan followed Nick up to the roof, carting their paper sacks of food and Dan’s big milkshake with them. It was dark, almost too dark to see. Despite sobering up a bit, Dan was a little afraid of accidentally tipping over the edge of the roof and careening to his death.

“One second,” Nick said. Moments later, lights flipped on. Strings of fairy lights over a comfortable looking seating area.

Dan walked over and plopped down on the sofa and leaned against the pillows. He stuffed some chips in his mouth. “This is nice.”

Nick came to sit down beside him.

“It’s beautiful up here,” Dan said as he looked out over the city skyline. “Kind of chilly though.”

“Want me to start a fire?”

“Do you even know how to start a fire?” Dan asked.

Nick gave him a look, then knelt down and just flipped a switch on the fire pit. Flames sparked from it.

“I learned that in the Boy Scouts.” Nick laughed and sat back down beside him. “Now, give me one of those burgers.”

By the fire, they sat and ate and talked about nothing, until Dan was starting to feel a lot less woozy.

“Hey, Nick.”

“You still drunk?”

“No.” He laughed. “I’m good. You?”

“Me too,” Dan said. “There any chips left?”

Nick looked in the sack. “Nope. You ate them all.”

“It’s probably for the best.” Dan patted his stomach.

Nick yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He let out a breath as his arm came down to rest across the sofa behind Dan. “Thanks for going out with me tonight, Dan.”

“Thank you. I needed it. Really. I was staring to go a little stir-crazy.” It had been nearly a month and he hadn’t left Nick’s flat.

“I’m glad I could help,” Nick said, his hand curling in to play with the sleeve of Dan’s hoody.

Dan yawned and leaned to rest his head against Nick’s chest. “Your hoody is really soft.” He played with the strings a little, wrapping one of them around his finger.

Nick laughed. “Thanks.”

“Hey, Nick?”

“Yes, Dan.”

“I’m really happy I’m here with you.” If he had to be anywhere else missing Phil, Dan wasn’t sure he’d survive it.

“I’m happy you’re here too.”

Dan sat up a little. The position had given him a crick in his neck, and he’d sat his milkshake on the end table. He couldn’t remember if there was any more left. He started to reach for it and Nick put a hand on Dan’s cheek. Their noses were touching and _fuck. Fuck._

Dan pulled back, away from Nick. “What are you doing?” he said, sounding panicked.

Nick jumped up off the sofa and flung himself at least five feet away. A hand was in his hair. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

“You… you just tried to kiss me.” Dan blinked, his brow furrowed, as the reality of what had just happened washed over him.

“Shit, fuck. I know.” Nick’s hand dropped out of his hair and he let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

“What? What could you have thought?” Dan stood up too, trying to do something with the rush of nervous energy.

“That you were… that you wanted… when you leaned over, I thought you were trying to, but you weren’t… oh God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Nick.” Dan felt like the idiot. For not seeing this before, for not listening to Phil when he told him that Nick had feelings for him…

“I tried to kiss you!”

“Those two things aren’t inextricably linked, you know?” Dan said, trying to lighten the mood, but it was futile and honestly, he knew it. Nick had just tried to kiss him and that would have to be dealt with.

“ _Dan._ ”

“Why did you… you know, try to kiss me?”

Nick was looking down at this feet. His voice was quiet. “I thought you wanted me to.”

“That’s the only reason? Because you thought I wanted you to—“

“I tried to kiss you because _I_ wanted to kiss you, Dan.” Nick’s voice lowered. “I’ve wanted that for a while now.”

“A while? What’s a while?”

“It’s complicated.”

“How? How is it complicated?”

Nick looked at him, finally looked at him for the first time since this had all happened. “I wanted to kiss you the night we met.”

“Bullshit.”

Nick shook his head. “It’s not. I was attracted to you that night at the Teen Choice Awards. I was flirting with you. You had to notice…”

At the time, Dan had thought that maybe he was, but then…

Nick went on, “That’s why I asked you out on a date. The next time I was in London.”

“Hey Buddy, you in London _was_ a come on. I fucking knew it.”

“Dan.”

“Sorry, but I’m confused. You palled it up real fast and obvious when we had a coffee. I thought I’d totally misread everything.”

“I got cold feet. I’d never done anything with a guy before. I was scared and it took me a couple weeks to work up the courage to tell you how I felt, but then—”

“Asshole Henry.”

Nick shrugged. “Asshole Henry.”

Dan had met this guy online. He was gorgeous and smart, but he knew it and did everything in his power to use it against everyone else.

“Unhinged _,”_ Nick said out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“On the album. That’s the song that’s not about Emily. That song’s about you. I wrote it before I met Emily when you were dating Henry. I changed it a bit… I had to, or you’d have known it was about you.”

Dan had heard “Unhinged” many times and he’d never considered… of course, he hadn’t, but now all the lyrics were coming back at him like an assault. _Talk about another man you’ve been talking to, just to see if I’ll get mad and I’ll fight for you. Right now my head isn’t screwed on right. And I can’t decide what I want. I’m afraid to find out that I might be right for you. ‘Cause it’s one step closer to life with you. And that’s not me._

“Shit, Nick.”

“I know.” Nick rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I finally worked up the courage to tell you to stop screwing asshole Henry, to tell you how I really felt. I went over to your apartment. I knocked on the door, but someone else answered.”

“Emily?” Her flat had flooded and Dan let her stay with him until it was fixed. That was how Nick and Emily had met.

Nick nodded. “There she was. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing your University of Manchester hoody, and those terrible big plastic glasses of hers she wears at night. I remember having this crazy thought before she’d even said a word. I just thought “there she is. that’s my wife”, and a second later, she was dragging me into your apartment to help her trap that giant spider”

Dan remembered that spider. They’d called him Ralph and it took them a week and threegrown people to get that thing out of the flat.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if I hadn’t had that thought. That _wrong_ thought, and I’d have done what I’d come over there to do.” Nick walked forward, closing the distance between them. He put a hand on Dan’s cheek and leaned closer.

“Nick, I—”

“I’m not going to try to kiss you again,” he said softly. “I just… I need you to tell me the truth, okay? If I’d have tried to kiss you then, that day I’d come over, or when we first went out for coffee or at the TCAs… would you have let me? Would you have wanted me to?”

Dan’s eyes shut, his chest tightening. He knew his answer, but only because back then he hadn’t known what was coming. That Phil was coming. “Yes, Nick. I wanted that… you, then.”

Nick shut his eyes. “And now?”

“And now, I don’t want to kiss anyone who isn’t him.”

Nick turned away, and walked a few steps, giving them more distance. He drew in a shaky breath, and Dan could hear him sniff. He was pretty sure Nick was crying. “Oh, fuck.”

“Nick.” Dan walked closer. He just wanted to reach out and make him feel better, but his touch probably wouldn’t make Nick feel anything but worse. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize.” Nick turned around. His eyes were red and a little wet. “You didnt’ do anything wrong. I’m just pissed that Joe was right.”

“Joe?”

“Yeah, that night we went to dinner with him and Sophie, he realized that I was getting a little too close to you, and he was the one person I’d told about… you know, how I felt about you back then. He just didn’t want me to get my heart broken. I told him he was crazy and some other choice words that I regret, but he was right, and I realized that the day I walked in on you having Skype sex with the prince.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“Stop apologizing. I just realized I was playing house with you, those feelings coming back, and you had no idea and your head and your heart were somewhere else. That’s why I left. I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship with my stupid feelings. So much good that did.”

“I’m the one that showed up here and got into your bed and let you hold me, hand my hand, and sing to me and buy me donuts. I’m a… jerk. A clueless jerk.”

“I’m the jerk. You’re broken hearted and you need your best friend and here I am just harboring this stupid, selfish crush on you the whole time.”

Dan gave Nick a small smile. “Oi, maybe we’re both jerks.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Nick said.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand. If you had… feelings for me, why’d you have sex with Emily before you left?”

“We never really got to say goodbye. We never really had closure. It was closure. That’s all.”

What Dan had thought was Nick opening a wound had actually been Nick closing it. Emily had been right. He didn’t know everything.

“Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay?” Dan asked. He wasn’t sure where he’d go, but he didn’t want to hurt Nick more than he already had.

Nick shook his head. “Please, please. Don’t do that. I mean… I guess I understand if it’s because you’re uncomfortable, but don’t leave for me. Man, I can live without getting to kiss you. Can’t live without you, though. Don’t want to, at least.”

“This is probably the exact wrong thing to say right now, but it’s the truth. I love you, Nick. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. And I think this is good. I needed to know that we missed our chance. It’s fine. Though, I feel sorry for you because I _am_ a hell of a lay.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous, but you know, you’re going to find someone who’s going to love you the way you deserve. I know it. I really do.”

Nick just gave Dan a small nod, and then smiled. “Wanna go downstairs and hate-watch YouTubers until we pass out on the couch?”

Now that—-that sounded perfect.


	39. Chapter 39

Dan spent the whole morning going through all his social media. Everyone was asking him questions about Phil. Not just the dick shippers, who seemed to be in ruins, but _everyone._ He was being talked about on American late night television and impersonated on Saturday-fucking-Night Live. It was totally fucking surreal.

And that wasn’t the worst of it, of course it wasn’t. The worst of it was the way it had brought the sick-headed homophobes out of the woodwork. The words they were using for both him and for Phil… it made him so goddamn angry. But they weren’t worth it. He’d learned that a long time ago, when he’d first come out.

He was more concerned about all the old stupid things he’d said being trotted out publicly. Dumb ass jokes and dirty bullshit. His diss track (yeah, the one that mentions Phil). Somewhere in all of it, there was support though. People who were proud of him, people who wanted what was best for him. People who were defending them and defending all the people who loved like them.

It was a mess, but there were still the good people. And, God, was he thankful for them.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Nick asked, walking into the living room in his work-out clothes.

Dan let out a breath. “Not great. My twitter feed is a disaster. I scrolled through fandom tumblr and... you know that gif where that guy walks in with pizza and everything is burning?”

Nick grimaced. “It’s like that.”

“I wish.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said.

“This really couldn’t be less your fault.”

“Technically, I did encourage this whole phan thing back when you first met Phil.”

“True. I should blame you for this more than I do.”

Nick was doing some stretches before his afternoon run. “So you got a plan? Not that I’m trying to kick you out or anything... though, I mean, technically you’re going to have to.”

“I... am?” Dan understood but for the past few days things had seemed fine, if awkward at moments. He just wasn’t sure where he was going to go yet, or how he was going to get back to England given how he’d gotten here in the first place.

“Not like that,” Nick said. “When I said everything was fine between us, that wasn’t just something I said. I’m not _that_ in love you, you know.”

“You’re a _little_ in love with me then?” Dan asked.

Nick shook his head. “You’re really a selective listener, aren’t you? But, anyway, you’ll have to get your ass out of here because I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” Dan asked. “Where?”

“London.”

That was not at all what Dan had expected to hear. “ _What?”_

“I promise I’m not following you around like a lovesick puppy.”

That wasn’t what Dan had meant. “Nick—”

He laughed. “Relax, Dan. I just like it there. I liked it when I was dating Emily. I always planned on living there if we got married. I came back here because I was running away from something and I’m not running anymore so…”

Dan was glad Nick was doing what he wanted instead of what he felt pushed into doing by the feelings he had for other people. He deserved to be happy, to be able to make his own life. Maybe Dan did too.

“So, I shouldn’t either?”

Nick put his hands up as if to say he wasn’t trying to get involved or push Dan in any particular direction. “I didn’t say that.”

“I know, but it’s true,” Dan said. The thought was scary, but he had to deal with it. “I have to face up to what happened and I can’t just let this end my whole life. I was waiting for Phil or his family to make a statement so I could just go along with what they’re doing, but since they never did…”

“You’re going to make a statement?” Nick looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Dan shook his head. “No, I’m just going to do my best to go back to normal. I don’t think I owe anyone an explanation, but also don’t think I owe anyone my complete disappearance from the world.”

Maybe it was easier for Phil and his family if he just disappeared forever, but that wasn’t fair and he didn’t really think Phil would want that for him.

“I’m proud of you, Dan.”

Dan rolled his eyes, but then smiled. “Since we’re being sappy, I’m proud of you too, Nick.”

“You also showered without my prompting so extra points to you,” Nick said, then sat down beside Dan on the sofa. "How are you going to make your reappearance? A tweet, an instastory, a video?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. A tweet might be the best. So I don’t give away where I am,” Dan said.

“I don’t know. We could probably find a place in this house no one would recognize. You’ve only ever taken pictures here.”

“You’ve shown a lot of your house though. It wouldn’t take long for dandom to figure it out. You know them.”

Nick gave a little shrug, then said, “Yeah, but like you could just sit in front of a white wall or something.”

“We’ll see I’d have to have an idea…” It had been a long time since he’d made a video. It would be good to post, if only he could think of something he could talk about. Maybe he’d just look at his list of ideas.

“Can I ask you something?” Nick said out-of-the-blue. “I probably should’ve asked you before, but I was kind of purposely avoiding the discussion.”

Dan felt his nerve prickle. “Sure…”

“You okay? I mean not with all the drama and media shit and whatever, but like, you lost someone you cared about a lot… like you broke up with someone and that’s not easy.”

After what Nick had confessed to him, wasn’t this weird to talk about now?

“I don’t know if we should talk about this.”

“Why not?”

Dan let out a sigh. “You know why not.”

“Please don’t do this, Dan.” Nick looked disappointed. “We’re friends. We’re _always_ friends.”

Nick was right. If he acted differently around Nick it really could fuck things up and he did not want that.

“It sucks,” Dan admitted. “I didn’t want to leave or break up with him. I had… fallen in love with him, but at the same time, I… it pisses me off. _He_ pissed me off.” It was good to just say it. Dan needed to say it. “He could’ve stood up for me, for us. Hell, for _himself._ I wanted to do it for him, but I know I can’t.”

Dan wished he could have given everyone in that room a piece of his mind. He had a whole speech in his head to tell them all where they could shove their ridiculous plan to hide him and treat him like a dirty secret, like a—

“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “I wish things would’ve been easier for you two… just like I wish they’d been easier for Em and me.”

“Yeah, but you offered her what he didn’t offer me, and she turned it down.”

Nick turned to him, his face serious. “Did you give him a chance to offer it? I mean, you left before he talked to you alone, right? Maybe he was telling his mom that he was out and going to run off with you.”

He wasn’t. Dan knew Phil. He was quiet and reserved and loved his family. He wasn’t, but even if, he had been…

“I… I wouldn’t have let him,” Dan said.

Nick stiffened, his voice like a sharp edge. “It’s his choice not yours.”

Dan let out a breath. “This is different than you and Emily.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know.” Dan rubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe. Maybe not, but…”

“But, what?”

Emily had left Nick because she couldn’t handle the spotlight. Couldn’t handle it or didn’t want it. Nick had offered to give up his career because he’d loved her _that_ much. Emily hadn’t been willing to meet Nick where he was and she hadn’t wanted to take his career, his passion, away from him. Dan didn’t want the spotlight he’d be in with Phil, but fuck if he was afraid of the bastards who’d want to cause them trouble, fuck if he’d let a bunch of bigoted shits and assholes with cameras tell him how to live and how to love.

“She could have just stayed with you. Been Nick Jonas’s girlfriend… his wife. Told the rest of the world to go screw itself. That was the other option on the table.”

After a moment, Nick said, “Was that option on the table for you?” His lips quirked into a smirk. “Not being my wife but—”

“Nick.” Dan nudged him, then settled back down. “It… yeah, it was.” It would’ve been a hard road—a fight—but Dan didn’t back down from fights.

_Except when I ran away from Phil…_

“Maybe Phil didn’t know it,” Nick said. “I mean, it’s _a lot_ to ask someone, especially given you being a dude and people being generally shitty.”

Dan couldn’t think about that. He’d shut that door, hadn’t he? And Phil hadn’t tried at all to open it back up.

“Doesn’t matter now.” Dan stood up from the sofa. “Anyway… I should come up with an idea for that video.”

 

Dan spent the day coming up with an idea for a video. He would never and could never, but oh boy, did he wish he could tell the story of his misadventures with Mary Shaw. That would make for a hell of a storytime. Alas, he could not, so he was stuck coming up with a good idea. This video probably wouldn’t be just watched by his fans, but by, well, everyone. So it probably shouldn’t have anything to do with what was going on in his life right now. Maybe it could be a storytime, but like of something he’d never talked about before… but maybe that was too personal. Or he could just say fuck it and do a Dan Memes bonus. Like all the memes he’d seen about him and Phil recently… or not that. He’d do an internet support group, but he’d already done an internet support group recently.

Then, he had an idea. An idea for a video—and an idea for a title. _Trying to Live My Truth._ That’s what he was doing, wasn’t it? Trying. Even when it didn’t work.

 

Hours later, Dan was sat in front the camera he’d borrowed from Nick, filming from the script he’d sketched out, “…and that means letting go of anything you tell yourself because you are afrai—”

“Dan! Dan!” Nick shouted, his voice would be easily heard on camera.

“What the—” Dan leaned forever a shut off the camera. “Bloody hell.”

“Dan!” Nick shouted again. His footsteps audible. He was obviously rushing down the hall. “Get your ass in here!”

Dan burst out of the room. “I’m in the middle of filming,” he snapped. “What the hell do you want?”

Nick groaned and shook his head. He grabbed Dan’s arm and yanked. “Just come in the living room. Now!”

Dan let Nick drag him into the living room and in front the telly. When he saw the screen, his heart stopped. It was Phil. On the news. Standing on the lawn of Buckingham Palace.

“Holy shit,” Dan said.

“You okay?” Nick replied.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.”

Phil was wearing the suit he was wearing when they met. Dan was pretty sure Phil was wearing exactly the outfit he was wearing when they met. He couldn’t see, but he imagined (hoped, maybe) that it was the same outfit all the way down to the brightly-pattered socks. He hoped, but it made his heart hurt. Just seeing him. He’d done everything he could do to avoid even looking at Phil and now, there he was. On Nick’s giant, high-def television.

“Good morning everyone,” Phil said. “Thank you for being here.”

The lights from cameras were flashing. Reporters were shouting questions, but Phil just stayed still, calm in a way that Dan had never seen before.

“I know you all have questions, and I hope that what I have to say today will answer the most important ones.” Phil cleared his throat, and the audience gathered before him quieted. “For the past several weeks, I have been the subject of tabloid articles, think pieces, blog posts, newscasts. Everyone has been speculating about my sexuality, and about my relationship with Daniel Howell. There are a few things I’d like to clear up. In this photograph that’s been circulating, I was the one that kissed him, not the other way around. And it wasn’t the first or the only time. My feelings for him were, _are,_ genuine and serious and I am not ashamed of those feelings or him. I can’t speak for Daniel, of course, but I do believe he felt the same way. At least, that is my sincere hope.”

Dan hadn’t breathed since Phil started speaking. He was stunned, unable to process. He had no choice but to just stand there and listen.

Phil went on, “Since the day I was born, my life has been up for public consumption. It is not a burden I have often worn well. However, I am not unaware of my extraordinary privilege. How could possibly stand before you and complain? I can’t. I won’t. I’ve spent so much of my life concerned with what you all thought of me and not nearly enough time considering how little you think of me at all. You’re too busy to be worried about me. You’re busy being worried about whether or not you can work full time and still feed your families. You’re worried about your children getting a proper education. You’re concerned about higher taxes on the poor and the middle class, wages that don’t keep up with the standard of living. You’re worried about what climate change will mean for the your futures and the futures of your children.”

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to talk about politics?” Nick said.

“I… I don’t know,” Dan responded, then put his attention back on Phil.

“In the face of that, I’ve always felt small, and I am, I _am_ small. It’s you all that get up every day and go to work and participate in your local elections. You write your MPs and you protest and you make real, lasting, positive change. I am in awe of you all and I am grateful for you, for what you do for our country.” Phil paused. “I once complained to Daniel that I felt like a mascot and now I see that I was right. That’s exactly what I am.”

_What the fuck’s he mean by that?_

“I finally understand my duty now, and Daniel was no small part in making that true. I know now that my responsibility to you all is not to be admired nor simply well liked. My responsibility—my commitment to you—is to set an example of a life well-lived. An example of compassion in a world of self-interest. Of charity in an environment of greed. Of humility, when, in my position, narcissism is easy and just as easily excused. Of gentleness in the face of the new and evolving brutalities of modern life. But, most of all, of love. Love for my God, for my country, and my people, and, also… for a man—a good and kind-hearted man who does not deserve the attacks that have been leveled at him. A good and kind-hearted man that I have almost certainly lost, though I hope I have not. You see, Daniel helped me realize that if I wanted to be the prince you all deserved, I had to stop worrying whether or not I was the prince you wanted.”

Dan remembered what he had said, _You cried in front of those men? Good. If they can’t see the bravery in that, then that’s their weakness. Want to be the king they need? Show them a better way._

 _“_ Since the unfortunate passing of my brother, there’s been a great deal of speculation regarding whether I’ll step aside,” Phil said. "Speculation that’s only increased over the last several weeks, and it’s time I give you my answer. Today, I stand before you as your prince. One day, I will stand before you as your king, and I hope, with all my heart, that Daniel Howell will be at my side.”

Dan couldn’t move. He just stayed silent for a moment, trying to process what just happened. Finally, he got the words out of his mouth. “That was… a hell of a speech.”

“Yeah I’ve got no idea what you’re still doing standing here in my living room.” Nick looked over at him and smiled.

“I…” Dan’s brow furrowed and he blinked. “I have to go back to England.”

“Yeah.”

“Nick …?” Dan turned to look at hm. “I have no idea how to do that.”

Nick laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Right, well… I know some people.”

“You know people, who can help me get out of the country?” Dan’s voice cracked. _What the hell?_

“Yeah,” Nick said simply.

“Who are you?”

Nick put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “I think sometimes you forget that I’m extremely rich and famous.”

Dan grimaced. “Ew.” He tried not to think about all that. Nick was just Nick. The rest of it had never mattered. Certainly, not past the first time they’d had coffee.

“You know, Dan, you’re already a lot more famous than me so just like… strap in for that.”

That was true. At this point, pretty much everyone knew his name. It was all over the internet and probably every tabloid ever. His name had been dragged back and forth through the mud in some cases, and in the cases where people were being nice, it was still everywhere. _Everywhere._ And it was only going to get worse from here, but fuck it. Fuck it, he just wanted to be with Phil again.

There was a knock on Nick’s door. It made Dan jump.

“Who the hell is that?” Dan spat, his heart sped up. Had the paparazzi found him before he’d even gotten the chance to get out of the country.

“I… don’t know,” Nick whispered. He cautiously made his way to the door and looked through the peep hole. He let out a laugh. “Well, fuck me.”

“What? What is it?” Dan scurried over as Nick as opening the door.

Dan’s eyes went wide and his stomach hit floor. Right there, standing _right_ there on Nick’s doorstep was Phil.

 


	40. Chapter 40

“Holy shit.” Dan stared straight at the open door and there he was. Phil— flesh and blood, not a manifestation of exhaustion or sadness or want. Not a dream, not imaginary. Just  _ Phil.  _ Fuck.

Phil looked past Nick and gave Dan a sheepish smile. God, Dan had missed that smile. “Hi,” Phil said, his words as sheepish as his smile.

“Holy shit,” Dan repeated. It seemed his vocabulary had been boiled down to two words.

Nick turned to Phil, then looked back over his shoulder at Dan. “I should give you two a minute.” His voice was soft and kind, and Dan found himself once again extremely grateful for his best friend.

Without needing any kind of prompting, Nick grabbed his wallet and keys off the stand by the door and walked past Phil out of his own apartment, leaving the two of them alone. 

Phil stayed put on the welcome mat, staring at Dan. He was still wearing what he wore during the speech—what he’d been wearing the first time they met—but his suit was rumpled and his quiff mussed. 

“Can I…” Phil prompted, digging into his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Come in,” Dan said. “Please, come in.” He said it calmly, somehow, but he’d wanted to shout, wanted to drag Phil inside and hold onto him and never let him go.

Phil stepped into Nick’s apartment and shut the front door behind him. “Look, Dan. I don’t know if you saw…”

“I saw.”

“Okay, well, look.” Phil sighed, reaching around to rub at the back of his neck. “I meant every word of it, Dan, and I understand if you’re not interested. I do. Really. I’ll get it. If you don’t feel the same way, you’ll never hear a word from me again. But I need you to know this. I’m in love with you. I am  _ so  _ in love with you.”

Ever since Dan had met Phil, his life had been a series of impossible events. From Phil sending him a pizza, to their coffee date, to their first kiss, to the following kisses, to the first time they fell in bed together, to stealing a fucking plane. But, this—Prince Philip confessing his love for Dan—that was more impossible than the rest of it combined. 

“Dan…?” Phil said, meekly because Dan had been too stunned to manage an answer.

“I love you too,” Dan blurted. 

“Really?”

Dan nodded. He was grinning, but he could feel tears forming in his eyes. “I’m sorry I left.”

“I’m not,” Phil said. “I just mean… it was the kick in the ass I needed.”

“It was a slow-moving ass kick. It’s been a month.”

Phil hung his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I was scared and didn’t know if you wanted me—title and all. In the end, I decided it didn’t matter. Even if you didn’t take me back, I still needed to tell everyone the truth. Though, I considered saying fuck it all and running after you the night I found your note. I want you to know that.”

Those words were a relief to hear, but he was glad Phil wasn’t trying to give up the throne for him.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

Phil tilted his head. “You are?”

“You’re going to make a hell of a king.”

A blush blossomed on Phil’s pale cheeks, his gaze dipping down. “Thank you.”

“Hey, Phil?”

“Yeah?”

Smiling, Dan took a step toward him. “I think you should probably kiss me right about now.”

Phil took the final step, so their toes were touching. He tilted his chin up and pressed his lips to Dan’s. Dan sank into it, pulled him closer. The kiss was soft, deep, the kind of kiss you float away on, and then Phil leaned back for air, pressed their foreheads together.

“God, I thought I was never going to be able to do that again,” Phil said.

“Me too.” Thank God they were both wrong.

Together, they drew in heavy breaths, the string of tension between them pulled tight. Phil skimmed his fingers down Dan’s t-shirt. A light touch with a fire-hot heat behind it.

“Phil,” Dan said darkly. “I need… I want…”

“Fuck,” Phil growled and kissed Dan like he knew how to read his mind. 

Every move of his lips was perfect. Every touch of his hands on Dan’s back, on his hips, his arms, his neck. Perfect. 

Dan gripped onto Phil’s shirt. His fingers ached at how tightly he clung to the fabric. He wasn’t letting go. Goddammit, Dan was never, ever letting go.

Phil’s tongue swept against his lips and Dan opened his mouth, searching for any way to be closer to Phil. He hated that there was space between them. He hated, in this moment, that they were two people instead of one. It seemed unspeakably unfair that they didn’t share skin, breath, a heartbeat. 

He wanted that. Wanted Phil’s heartbeat to be his heartbeat. He’d never felt like this before, this aching, searing need for someone else. To fold himself into someone else.

Over the last weeks, he’d closed himself off to it. Done everything in his power to cauterize the wound leaving Phil behind had created. He’d spent that time in numbness, only beginning to emerge from the anesthesia over the past few days. With Phil here though, Phil touching him, Phil kissing him. He was feeling everything. All at once. A tidal wave of emotion.

Dan was prepared to drown in it.

“I want you,” Phil breathed the words into his mouth. They were better than oxygen.

“I want you too.  _ Fuck _ .” Dan kissed Phil hard, putting the force of his body behind it. He backed Phil against the wall, pushed their bodies together. 

He could feel Phil’s bulge through his trousers, pressing against Dan’s own. Dan groaned into Phil’s ear. He kissed at the lobe and then down Phil’s cheek and he rolled his hips against Phil’s.

“Dan, shit. Dan,” Phil murmured. 

“What?” Dan asked, breathlessly. “What?”

“I want to make love to you,” he said.

Dan let out an awkward giggle because no one had ever said anything like that to him. They’d wanted to have sex with them. They’d wanted to fuck him or be fucked by him. But no one had ever said they wanted to make love to him before.

“ _ Phil.” _

“Was that weird to say?”

“Good weird,” Dan said. “I want that, you know. Right now, Phil. Please.”

Phil surged against him, pressing him back now with a force that made Dan dizzy. This was that in the classroom times a thousand. He loved seeing Phil like this. Confident and desperate for him.

Phil’s hands were on his face and Phil laughed. “I don’t know where to take you.”

_ Take me here,  _ Dan thought,  _ take me right here on the floor. I don’t give a fuck.  _ “The guest bedroom. It’s, God, come on.”

Dan took Phil by the hand and dragged him from Nick’s living room into the guest bedroom. Dan had been sleeping in there since the night Nick told him about his feelings. They’d had to set boundaries. It was what was healthy for both of them.

Right now, though, Dan wasn’t going to think about Nick. Phil was here and his mouth was sucking bruises into Dan’s neck and his hands were moving wildly over every part of Dan they managed to find. 

Phil slid those warm hands under Dan’s shirt and pulled it up his torso. Phil dipped his head down and sucked Dan’s nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Dan shouted, letting a hiss trail behind the word. His hand sank in Phil’s hair and held him in place. Just letting him lick and suck and nibble.

Phil’s mouth moved from his nipple to his breastbone. He held Dan’s shirt up and flat enough so Dan could see Phil look up at him, his eyes narrowed and dark, then Phil licked up the breastbone. Once, then twice. It was weird. But, so,  _ so  _ good.

“Phil,  _ Phil.”  _ Dan grabbed his own t-shirt and pulled it off the rest of the way.

Phil nuzzled his head against Dan’s chest. “Why are you so gorgeous?” his voice was muffled.

“I don’t know about that.”

“You are,” Phil said, kissing right where his heart was. “You’re perfect.”

If Dan was perfect, he didn’t know what Phil was. A word, a concept that hadn’t been invented yet. Something powerful and potent and all-consuming. The beginning and the end of something all at once, that was Phil. That was the two of them, together.

Phil grabbed at Dan’s belt and loosened it. He drew in a broken, shaky breath as he fingers tugged at the button and then at the zipper. Dan just stared, his eyes wide as if he could take in more of it this way, as if it would help him remember.

Dan ran a hand through Phil’s hair, a soft sweep that let him see a mix of grey and ginger at the roots. God, he loved this man. Every bit of him. He wanted to count each hair, give them a name, like constellations. That grey one right there, something Latin, he thought _ ,  _ or Norse, like a Norse fucking God.

All coherent thoughts of ancient mythology fell out of his mind when Phil hooked his delicate fingers on the underside of Dan’s Calvin’s. A precious and warm touch on fragile skin that was already aching to be explored further. 

Phil started to slowly tug down and Dan just gaped, like an idiot, he gaped, but God, did it matter? The man he loved was here on his knees just wanting Dan with a want to match his own—a want as bright and sharp as the edge of a freshly cut diamond—and when Dan felt warm, wet heat wrap around his tip and suck, he had to bite back a scream. Only teeth dug into the fleshy inside of his mouth kept him from that embarrassing, high-pitched burst his audience loved to pick on.

“How are you so good at that?” Dan said, his words a low, nearly inaudible grumble. 

Phil’s mouth slid off him with a pop. His lips were wet, almost dripping, and puffy too. Dan felt like he might faint. 

“You like it?”

Dan laid a flat palm against Phil’s cheek and caressed his skin from there back to his neck. “You have no fucking clue.”

Phil grinned. It was such a pure thing, like he honestly had no idea how incredible that felt, like Dan’s compliment had been needed and was received fully, without irony or pretense. He loved that about Phil. That he didn’t have to scrape through layers of irony and sarcasm to find him. 

Dan wanted more so he gently pressed his hand to the back of Phil’s head and Phil immediately got what he was asking for. Phil leaned back in and wrapped those puffy lips around Dan’s dick. He was all tongue, pressure in the right places, a low hum in the back of his  throat that made Dan ring like a bell. Sometimes there was a scrape of teeth, not in the bad way, just in the way that made everything feel grounded. Real and raw. 

It felt so good, all those things at once, coming together and splitting apart just to move back together again in a perfect wet squeeze. There was a moment, a lick to the underside of Dan’s head that made his vision go all misty and his breath tighten and he’d thought he’d fucked up and this was all going to end too soon, but Dan dug his fingers into the palm of his hand and held back.

He wasn’t ready for this to be over yet. He wanted more kisses, more touches, everywhere, everything. 

Dan nudged Phil’s mouth away from him and tugged him to his feet for a kiss. As always, Phil’s kiss was perfect, if a little salty, but knowing why just made it better. Dan pulled him in, clinging to his shirt. That same sturdy button up he’d worn the day Dan met him. How was it that he had his hands on that shirt now, feeling the fabric on his palms. Barely realizing it, his fingers were on the buttons on that same shirt and making their way down, down, pulling each little circle through and out to reveal that pale chest. 

It had been so long since Dan had seen it, that wonderful hidden skin and he desperately wanted to reveal more of it.

Phil hands slid under Dan’s shirt, running over his stomach and to the small of his back dipping below the waistband of his trousers. It made him shudder, made him want. God, to have Phil’s hands dip even lower, slip between his cheeks and stroke where he was sensitive and warm.  _ God, God. _

“Phil,” Dan breathed. His name was a breath and not a word. Same as oxygen.

“Dan,” Phil matched him with the same tone, his breath was hot against Dan’s lips. “I need…”

Dan nudged his nose against Phil’s. "I know. I know. I need it too.”

It managed to seem like both an instant, and forever, until they managed to work each other out of their clothes, to toss them to the side of the bed in a beautifully mixed heap. 

Phil’s hand was against him, hot and bare on his sternum, and pushed Dan back on his bed. His heart flipped, and he drew in a sharp breath. Phil straddled Dan’s legs. He settled down on Dan’s lap and Dan placed his hands on Phil’s thighs. They were lean and pale, coated in soft, dark hair. Dan pressed his fingers in, making little divots, and Phil shuddered, letting out a dark groan.

God, it was sexy. Phil was sexy. His cock was straining hard between them, long and thick, curved and red. A pearl formed at the slit and then dripped off onto Dan’s cock. Dan took one of his hands off Phil’s thigh and wrapped it around himself, using Phil’s come to ease his own movements.

Phil let out an even darker sound, a dirtier sound, and crashed his mouth into Dan’s. There was such force to it, power. It felt like being kissed by not just a prince but a king. Dan opened his mouth and Phil slid his tongue in between Dan’s teeth, licking at the top of his mouth. 

Dan gave in, happily, to the force and fell back on the soft duvet. Phil’s kisses moved from Dan’s mouth to his cheek to his neck, which sent a tidal wave of shocks over his skin. He was so unbelievably sensitive there. It was like Phil knew it, knew exactly the spots that would make him come apart. 

He loved this. Loved Phil being on top of him, hands braced just above Dan’s shoulders. Loved just letting Phil map him out, like he had a longstanding plan of all the places on Dan’s body he wanted to visit with his mouth. 

Dan didn’t really even think about it, it just came naturally for him to spread his legs so that Phil could sink even closer to the place that Dan actually wanted him to be. Then, he tucked his knees up.

“Fuck, Dan,” Phil said.

Dan spread his legs a little more, just in case, somehow, Phil didn’t get the idea. “Please,” he said. 

Pink bloomed on Phil’s cheeks. “I… I’ve never…”

_ Never what?  _ Though he knew sex was more than penetrative sex, he wasn’t sure how else to ask so he just said, “Never had sex?” quietly. That was hard to believe, but he guessed it was possible.

Phil shook his head. “I’ve… I’ve had sex. I’ve just never. Fuck.”

“Had sex with a man?” Dan tried again.

“Topped,” Phil said. More like blurted, as if the word was hard for him to form. “I’ve only ever been the, um, receiving partner and I’m not sure if, uh,…”

Dan stroked his fingers across Phil’s face. He hated to see him nervous, especially in a situation like this. There was nothing to be nervous about here, not with him. “It’s okay. If you don’t like that, it’s okay. I can top, Phil. I like it both ways. Or we don’t have to do anything like that tonight… or ever… whatever you want.”

“I want it,” Phil said. “To top, I mean, with you, right now. I’ve just never and I thought you should know that.”

Dan smiled up at him. “Okay.” Dan wrapped his hand around Phil’s dick and swiped the head across his rim. It made them both shiver.

“Dan. Oh, God.”

“Yeah.” Dan did it again. “You want that?”

Phil let out a little whimper and nodded. “Do you have lube?” he asked. “And a condom?”

“Yeah, just, they’re in the drawer.” Dan reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He pulled out a bottle of Durex. Thankfully, he had some condoms for the nights he wanted easy clean up after he jacked off. 

Phil grabbed the bottle of lube out of Dan’s hand and popped open the cap. He poured some of it over fingers. Seconds later, those slick fingers were softly stroking over Dan’s entrance.

“Oh God, oh God,” Dan said.

“You’re beautiful.” Phil’s brow was creased as he stared down between Dan’s legs.  Before Dan could say anything, his words were cut off by that familiar, but never mundane feeling of being stretched out and opened. And this time it was different. Completely different because it was Phil.

“That feel okay?” Phil asked. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Dan shook his head. “No. God no. It feels… fuck, it feels incredible.”

A small smile flickered across Phil’s face and he sunk the finger in even deeper before sliding it almost all the way back out. 

Whimpering, Dan arched up on the bed, one hand sinking into the duvet and the other clutching at Phil’s side. 

Phil repeated that intoxicating motion a few more times before he added a second finger, giving the stretch that extra bit of burn that Dan loved so much. He found himself naturally pressing himself down onto Phil’s fingers.

The in-and-out movements felt incredible, but Dan wanted more, and he wanted Phil to be getting something more out of this. 

“Scissor your fingers a bit,” Dan managed, though it was hard to form words. “You’re really big and I need to be ready for it.”

Phil nodded and did as Dan asked. That pull and pressure was always a lot when it first started, but Phil did it so gently and with such care, there wasn’t even that normal pain that Dan had to normally, momentarily, grit his way through. 

Phil kept on for a few moments then Dan said, “Fuck, so good. I’m ready when you are.”

After a few more gentle thrusts, and one quick curl of his fingers that made lights dance across Dan’s vision, Phil slowly slipped his fingers out.

It almost hurt—just the being empty—the wanting to be filled back up.

Dan’s hands were shaking because  _ holy fuck I’m about to be fucked by the prince  _ but he managed to get a grip on the condom packet and tear it open. He licked his lips, instinctively, as he rolled the condom down Phil’s cock.

_ Fuck,  _ Dan thought,  _ he definitely fills it out more than I do. _

“You sure?” Phil asked quietly, ducking his gaze away from Dan’s.

“Never been more sure in my life,” Dan answers easily. “You.”

“Me too.” 

Phil fit himself between Dan’s legs. He looked down just long enough to aim, then his gaze was locked on Dan’s as he began to press in.

Fuck, Phil was big. Dan knew that, but the reality of it didn’t really hit until this moment, until his body was stretching and opening up to let him in. It was a lot, so much, but Dan felt so relaxed, so safe, here with Phil that it was one of the easiest things to do—just melt for Phil like this.

“ _ Fuck,  _ fuck, shit,” Phil muttered—the words dark and coming from somewhere low and rough in his throat.

“Phil, are you—”

“Feels so good. Nothing like it.” He drew in a deep breath. “Nothing like you.”

Dan leaned up a little, as much as he could under the circumstances. It was all he needed really because Phil could tell what he wanted and Phil leaned down to kiss him. His head was pressed back to the pillow as he opened his mouth for Phil while he slid the rest of the way inside him.

They both just laid there for a moment, connected together, sharing breaths. It felt almost like if either one of them moved they’d wake up from the dream they’d somehow found themselves in. But this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t fantasy. It wasn’t a movie or a story. It was real life. Tangible and honest and human.

It was eventually Phil that broke the silence. “I need to… oh God, can I?”

“Please. Move, Phil. Oh fuck.”

So Phil moved, thrusting in and out as he kissed at Dan’s lips and his cheeks, then dipping down to his neck and his ears. It was a wet wonderful all over feeling that built and built second to second. 

Dan’s hands were all over Phil’s naked body, searching for anything he could find to touch. He slid his nails down Phil’s back and felt him shiver, heard the groan rumble in his chest, so Dan smiled and did it again. He loved making Phil feel things. Loved it more than he could possibly express. 

Tucking his legs up, Dan let Phil in even more, let him slide in even deeper. The slightly different angle made Phil’s cock rub against Dan just where he needed it, just where he could be struck like a match. 

“Phil!” Dan shouted, unable to control himself. 

Phil must’ve liked hearing his name called out like that because he just began to move faster, like a wild, desperate thing. Dan was absolutely living for it. Phil wasn’t the kind of person that often came undone. He was always a little uptight, high strung, but in this moment, he seemed so free, so at ease with Dan and with what they were doing together that it almost made Dan want to cry. God, he was happy. Dan couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d ever been happier. 

Dan’s hands slid into Phil’s hair and pulled. He had the best hair. The best everything. Dan couldn’t wait to spend all of his seconds exploring Phil again and again and again. He wanted to know him like the back of his hand. Wanted to know him better than that. He would become the world premiere expert on Prince Phil. He’d learn every single way to make him happy. He had no doubt about that.

“I love you,” Phil said, voicing exactly what Dan had been feeling. “I love you and I love this and I just never want to fucking stop.” He was out of breath. 

Dan laughed because what else was there to do when everything was just so good. “I love you too, and you better never fucking stop. We better do this again and again and— _ mmph.” _

Phil pressed a wet, forceful kiss to Dan’s mouth and Dan just grinned, surging up into it. He pressed his heels to the back of Phil’s thighs just to pull him in even closer. Phil groaned and buried his face into the crook of Dan’s neck.

“Don’t do that,” Phil said, his voice mumbled.

Dan eased up a bit. “Why not?”

“Because I’m going to come, and I’m so not ready for this to end.”

“It’s okay if it ends, you know, because we can just do it again. Whenever we want.”

Phil lifted himself back up over Dan and looked down at him, his quiff now flopping down over his forehead like he had a fringe. “In that case…” He thrust hard into Dan, hitting him in the perfect matchbox place.

“ _ Fuck!”  _ Dan moaned and thrust his own hips up to meet Phil. 

It was a million miles an hour now. It was a car with the accelerator pressed all the way down to the floorboard. Phil was moving and Dan was moving in this wonderful rhythm that felt practiced, felt meant to be, even though it had never happened between them before. 

It was a mix of kisses and touches, of sliding against the soft duvet, of curling fingers into it. It was sweat forming at the temples. It was trembling, explosive coiling pressure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dan chanted as his head tipped back, arching up because that feeling was right there, right there, right there and he just needed a little, the tiniest little bit and he’d tip over the edge.

He wrapped his hand around his own cock and one stroke was enough, one pre-come slick stroke was enough to have him screaming—actually screaming—as he writhed on Phil’s cock, squeezing around him and coming in all over both their chests and up onto his own neck and chin.

“Oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Phil groaned and he was fucking into Dan so fast. “Oh God. Oh  _ God.”  _ He cried out, his face crinkled up so gorgeously as he came too. 

Phil stayed there for a moment, leaning over him and gasping in big, heavy breaths that Dan could feel against his shoulder. It was incredible to feel Phil like this, still inside him and on top of him just trying to catch his breath from the overwhelming feeling they’d built together. If Dan could pick a moment to never end, it would probably be this one. But, it didn’t matter what he wanted, all moments had to end. 

With a soft groan, Phil slowly slid out of him and Dan was acutely aware of the empty ache it left him him with. Phil rolled over onto his back and slid the condom off. He tied it.

“Is there a bin…” Phil asked.

“Yeah.” Dan sat up a bit. “It’s just next to you by the nightstand.”

Phil nodded then leaned over, his naked back stretching so he could toss the used condom into the bin. When Phil rested back again the bed, kicking his legs under the covers, Dan was smiling at him. 

“What?” Phil asked.

“Nothing.” Dan grinned even wider, joining Phil under the covers. “I just love you that’s all.”

Dan really did love Phil and he loved moments like this. Moments where they were together and Phil was just being the human he really was, expressing the parts of him that were absolutely ordinary, like having to throw out a used condom. Dan felt so unspeakably lucky that he got to see Phil in moments like this just being himself. 

“That’s good because I love you too.” Phil stretched his arm out and Dan was more than happy to take that as an invitation to snuggle up against his chest and just rest with him. They both laid there in silence for a moment, probably both still tired—Dan definitely was—and enjoyed the silence. 

“So, did you like it?” Dan finally asked, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Like? That doesn’t even begin to cover it.” 

“You’re going to want to top again, then?”

“Definitely.” Phil’s brow furrowed and a look of concern appeared. “Do you not want me to?”

“Whoa, mate. Totally not what I’m saying I just mean you’d never done it before so…”

“I wanted to do it before,” Phil whispered.

“Really? Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “Do you remember that One Direction mug you used at my house?”

“Well, that was out of nowhere.”

“Sorry, I just, this is kind of a hard thing to segue into talking about… I mean it’s a hard thing to talk about in general.”

“What is?”

Phil drew in a deep breath then blew it back out slowly. “My ex.”

Dan bristled. He didn’t like thinking about Phil being with other people let alone talking about it, but it seemed like there was something Phil needed to share with him and Dan would always be there to listen.

“What about him? I mean, I’m assuming it was a him.”

“It was. His name’s Niall.”

“Ah, now I’m getting the One Direction thing.”

Phil smiled small as he looked down. “It was an inside joke. Stupid. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter anymore. This is probably the last thing we should be talking about right now. Leave it to me to ruin even if the most perfect moment.”

Dan snuggled in closer. He ran his fingers down Phil’s ribs. “You didn’t ruin anything. You couldn’t. And you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t feel comfortable talking about, but if you want to, I’m here and I’m happy to listen.”

Phil pressed a kiss to the top of Dan’s head. Dan could barely feel the pressure through all his mussed up curls. “It took me a long time to see it, but it was just a really bad relationship. He was uncomfortable with me being… me, you know, my title. And I guess after a while I started to get uncomfortable with it too.”

Well, that explained a lot about Phil’s unusual behavior for a royal, though Dan wasn’t quite sure exactly how they’d found their way into this discussion at all. This didn’t seem to have anything to do with topping and bottoming. 

“I’m sorry. He sounds like a jackass.”

“He was and he wasn’t,” Phil said. “We met at uni and I guess in a way he taught me a lot, you know, opened my eyes, which was something I needed. I was pretty sheltered as you can imagine.”

“Well, he could’ve… opened your eyes without being a jackass.”

Phil laughed. “I agree.”

“How did we start talking about this?”

Phil shifted again, like he was still a little nervous or uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He’s the only other guy I’ve been with. Only other person, really. We dated for a really long time. I never expected when we first started… we were just sleeping around at first, but then it was years later… I really don’t know how no one ever knew. I mean, besides Maxwell and a few good friends. Guess it helped that everyone thought I was dating one of those good friends—Byrony. She’s great, you’ll have to meet her, but anyway, yeah… Niall and I actually dated until after Martyn was diagnosed with cancer.”

Dan wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know, but he was too curious not to ask. “So why did you break up?”

“Because I was gonna quit. You know, all of it, I was going to walk away from it, so Niall and I could be together. Live a normal life. Martyn was going to get married to Cornelia and have kids. It wouldn’t matter if I left, but then…”

“Yeah.”

Phil ran his hand over his face. “Shit, I’ve never told anyone that. Not  _ anyone. _ ”

“I’m sorry you had to break up. I mean… I’m not because well I love you and I want you to be with me… obviously.”

“I’m not sorry,” Phil said. “I’m glad I’m with you and we didn’t have to break up. Niall dumped me because I wasn’t ready to just up and walk away… not with Martyn sick and… I just couldn’t.”

“Of course not,” Dan said. 

“It was a bad breakup. I felt guilty for breaking my promise to him for a really long time, but some of the things he said to me… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean? What’d he say?” Dan wasn’t trying to look for a reason to hate this Niall guy, but he wasn’t afraid of hating him either. 

“Just that he was right about people like me, that we’re all… fundamentally broken. That he should’ve never trusted me because of course I’d chosen power over him. That wasn’t what was happening though. I just love my family and I needed to be there for them. He didn’t care to listen to it.”

“Wow, seems like a real gem.”

“Niall had some very strong beliefs. I was a wrench in that system from start. He was a Republican.”

Dan blinked, brow furrowing. “Like an American Trump Republican or…”

Phil shook his head. “No, like a um the monarchy should be dissolved Republican.”

Dan’s mouth dropped open.  _ Holy hell.  _ “No shit?”

“I was young and dumb. The idea seemed romantic at the time. Like  _ Romeo and Juliet _ .”

“You do realize how that play ended right?”

“Again, I plead young and dumb, though I guess that excuse wears off seeing as we broke up for good when i was like twenty-eight. We were on and off, though. It was a mess from the start.”

After a moment of silence passed Dan said, “I still don’t know how we ended up talking about this.”

“Right, well he would never let me top, which is like fine, I mean plenty of people don’t like to bottom. But I knew he’d done it with other guys and liked it… just he wouldn’t with me… I didn’t want to see it but I’m pretty sure it was because of my title.”

This wasn’t making a lot of sense to Dan but he was doing his best to follow the train of thought. 

“He liked fucking the prince,” Phil said forcefully, like the words were hard to form and he had to push them out. “He liked me ‘submitting’ to him. He couldn’t handle it the other way around. He hated himself for how he felt about me. Really, he did. Like I was an addiction he was ashamed of or something, so we never… I guess it helped assuage that guilt in some way.”

“Well, fuck, Phil, that’s fucked up. I’m sorry. I don’t care what his politics were he had no right to make the guy he was dating feel like shit. Besides, bottoming has nothing to do with submitting. That’s misogynistic bullshit.”

“You’re right. It took me a long time to realize it, but you are. My heart was broken when he left, but I’m so glad he did. I’ve been so goddamn thankful for that since the moment we met. I swear, when you shook my hand I just knew. And I think you might have kind of even known before that.”

Dan thought about the crush he had on Phil, long before they’d even met. He thought about the way even a picture of the man or the sound of his voice on the telly could make him feel. It was, he guessed, in a weird way, like he’d always known. 

“I’m glad I was right.”

“Me too.” Phil cleared his throat. “So, I guess we have to talk about. I mean, what happens next? Being a public part of my life. It’s so much to ask…”

“No it’s not,” Dan said and he was surprised at how easy it was to say it. “I mean, I know it’s going to be a lot, but it’s not too much to ask. This is your life and I want to be a part of it, whatever that means.”

“Everything in your life will change, Dan. And when I say everything, I mean  _ everything.  _ What you wear, what you can do, how you can talk, where you can go… it’s a complicated life.”

Dan wasn’t stupid. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. He knew there were challenges ahead of him that he couldn’t even imagine right now, but he also knew that he could tackle anything, if they tackled it together. 

“I’m not afraid,” Dan said because he wasn’t. “Are you?”

Phil just smiled at over him, all bright and wonderful. “Not anymore.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End .... of part one! Stay tuned for part 2 and some Dan learning to be royal hijinks and other sorts of palace intrigue. Thanks so much everyone for reading and being patient with me. You're all the best!!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first chapter of part 2. not sure when i'll update but i'll do it as i can. thanks!

_Serious business—_ that phrase rattled around in Dan’s mind, like a loose screw, as he sat in this uncomfortable, ancient chair in this uncomfortable, ancient room in this uncomfortable, ancient palace. _Serious business. Serious business._ Like a loose damn screw.

On his channel, there had been a Youtube video of him repeating that phrase—serious business—over and over again as he slunk his nineteen year old limbs around the law offices where he’d been sentenced to spend his internship. Like a makeshift Grinch, Dan had imagined stealing the stodgy seriousness of that place a green handful at a time. Like if he could spirit away enough of it, adult responsibility wouldn’t come in the morning like a boulder to crush him.

Over the years, Dan had realized he’d been wrong back then. Responsibility wasn’t something that came crashing down like a boulder. It came slowly, a dropped pebble at a time. As soon as you learned to manage the weight of a new pebble another would drop and you’d have to learn to manage that too. You would, mostly. Most of the time. But not always. Sometimes those pebbles were too damn heavy and you could feel each and every one of them weighing you down in specific, horrible ways and you could imagine all the ones that were to come and that was called a depressive episode. A psychiatrist would prescribe citalopram, so you could stop counting the pebbles and figure out how to take a shower and go to the fuck outside. And that was that.

But this—this Big Thing that was happening to Dan, _at_ him, maybe, felt a lot more like the boulder he’d imagined in his youth than the steady drop of pebbles he’d grown used to.

“You really can’t hunch like that,” Margo said, and not at all for the first time. She’d been harping on Dan’s bad posture for months it felt like. Ever since he’d started what he and Phil had come to affectionately and sometimes not so affectionately call ‘Princess Lessons’.

“I don’t hunch.” He hunched. He absolutely hunched. Dan was a huncher from way back. All big hands and thick thighs and broad shoulders on a body stretched out too long by genetics and not smoking the cigarettes his grandmother had told him would stunt his growth.

Maybe if he’d have just taken up smoking he wouldn’t have this problem.

Margo gave Dan a measured gaze, pressing one of her manicured nails to her bottom lip. Her heels clacked as she walked behind Dan. She put her small hands on his shoulders and pulled, curving in his spine. “Now, _that’s_ not hunching.” Margo dropped her hands away.

Feeling silly, Dan looked at himself in the mirror. He was all puffed up, his starched-looking shoulders back. The position didn’t make Dan feel confident, like Margo and a few online articles said it would. It made him feel huge, lumbering, like a cryptid wearing TopMan skinny jeans.

“I can’t go around standing like this. It’s stupid.”

Margo positioned herself in an exaggerated slump then paraded in front of him. God, his life really had become directed by Gary Marshall. “You can’t meet the prime minister looking like a first draft Victor Hugo protagonist either.”

Dan scoffed. “If you don’t think Theresa May would feel at home in a Victor Hugo novel…”

“And you definitely can’t say things like that.” Margo turned towards him, her lips pursed. He could tell she was disappointing her and Dan hated disappointing her, despite repeatedly and almost exclusively doing it.

“I’m not a royal. The prince’s boy toy still has every right to tell Theresa May to shove it up her tight—”

“Good morning, Daniel,” the queen’s voice came out of nowhere, startling him.

Dan squawked, embarrassingly, then said, “Sorry, ma’am. I… I had no idea you’d come in.”

“I’m stealth,” she said, then looked to Margo with that heir of something otherworldly she always possessed. “You should’ve told him that I’m stealth.”

“Yes, ma’am,”Margo replied.

The Queen was wearing her tortoiseshell reading glasses and her usual uniform of pressed wool trousers and a white blouse, but her shoes were unusually red, candy apple red. Dan smiled. He knew Phil had bought them for her. “How is it going?” the queen asked.

“Alright,” Margo replied. “He’s… alright.”

“Thank you. I was actually talking to to my son’s _boy toy_ , but I do appreciate your help, Margo. As a matter-of-fact, why don’t you take an early lunch?” She shot Dan a look. “I’m sure you need it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Margo gave Dan a wary glance, then grabbed her bag and hurried out of the room.

“So…” the queen prompted, eyebrows raised above those thin lines of tortoiseshell.

“We’ve moved from waving to posture so I’m assuming next I’ll be slowly repeating the phrase how now brown cow.”

“I know you don’t take this seriously, but it is important.”

Dan wanted to tell her that he did take this seriously. Like a boulder dropped off Mount Crumpet seriously and taking the piss out of things was just how he dealt with it, but he didn’t want to say ‘taking the piss’ to the queen and he couldn’t think of another way to explain it.

“I’ll try not to be a total embarrassment, I promise.”

“The little things matter. It’s easy to think they don’t, but they do. And they matter more for Phil than they mattered for me. People are going to be looking for the smallest chink in your armor or in his, any vulnerability they can latch onto and exploit. Don’t give it to them.”

“Do I really have to go to this thing tomorrow? Should I even go? I mean, I was joking about the whole boy toy thing, but it’s not lightyears from the truth, at least not when it comes to official royal duties.”

The Queen shrugged. “Philip wants you there.”

“Do _you_ want me there?”

“I want my son to be happy, and I want you not to make a fool out of him.” The Queen regarded Dan, her gaze falling down his body then snapping back up. “And stop standing like that, you look like Sasquatch.”

Dan dropped his shoulders and frowned.

Twenty-seven years old and he was still shit at serious business.

 

. . .

Phil paced in his bedroom, alternating between gnawing his bottom lip raw and staring at the top drawer of his dresser. Sometimes, when he felt ambitious, he’d do them both at the same time.

Under balled patterned socks and stacks of boxer-briefs was a velvet box. Inside that velvet box was a ring—his paternal grandfather’s ring—it was a simple silver band, something from a long-gone jeweler purchased frugally in a tucked away corner of Manchester.

It had nicks and scratches in it from the years his grandfather had spent toiling away at the shipping yard to put food on the table for his wife and their gaggle of kids. Martyn used to make fun of Phil, when he’d catch him dressed up in their grandfather’s coat playing house with his imaginary wife and kids. Boys were supposed to turn sticks into revolvers and pretend to be cowboys, launch garden rocks like army grenades. They were supposed to live out expansive fantasies of knights or aliens or superpowers. But for Phil, his grandfather’s life was as far away from his own experience as any of those fantasies. It was as much as an impossible dream.

Wanting to see it again, hoping the simple sliver band would ground him somehow, Phil opened the drawer and began to dig inside it. He had two fingers on the soft velvet of the box when his bedroom door flung open.

“Did you know your mum’s here?”

Phil slammed the dresser drawer shut, then faced Dan with his hands bracketed on the dresser and his body blocking the drawer. “Um, what? Yes, yeah, she had a meeting here today.”

Dan yawned, then flopped back on the bed. He toed off his shoes and they thudded on the floor. “You could’ve warned me mate. She interrupted princess lessons.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “I hope she wasn’t too… harsh.”

Dan sat up. “She’s not. She’s fine.” He sighed. “You sure you want me going to this thing tomorrow? I’m a mess. There was an article about it and everything.”

Phil stepped away from the dresser, moving toward Dan. “It wasn’t an article. It was a blog post and it was bullshit.”

“They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

Dan had sent the link to Phil when he’d found it. Phil didn’t get past the title— _Prince’s Boyfriend is an Unmitigated Mess._ He never gave the stupid thing the dignity of reading it. He wished Dan hadn’t either, wished Dan knew it didn’t fucking matter.

“I don’t care what it said.” Phil grabbed one of Dan’s legs and hoisted it up so his foot was placed against Phil’s thigh. He slowly worked Dan’s sock off his foot and then rubbed his foot just how he knew Dan liked it—a strong thumb pressed just underneath his big toe and over towards the middle.

Dan tossed his head back and let out a groan. “Unfair,” he mumbled. “Not that I’m complaining, but do you even have time for this?”

“No, but I’m doing it anyway.” Phil pressed down harder on that spot, rocking his thumb back and forth.

“ _Phil._ ”

“Yes, I have time for this. Everything is fine. I’ve been doing this prince thing my whole life. I’ve got it down.”

“You haven’t been doing the prince with the highly controversial boyfriend thing for your whole life though.”

“It would be weird if I had,” Phil said.

“The new, chill Phil freaks me out, you know that?”

Phil let go of Dan’s foot then leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. It was warm and sweet, a simple kind of kiss they’d shared so many of now.

It was true. Phil was “chill” about a lot of things now. He was less concerned about what people thought about him or about Dan, less concerned with how he was going to be king someday, but there were still underlying concerns. And overlying ones too… like the one in his top dresser drawer.

It was one thing to be the prince’s boyfriend. It was another thing to be a prince yourself. They’d talked about it—sure, here and there—in bits and pieces, they’d talked but it was one things to talk and another thing to decide. Asking Dan to marry him would be asking him to decide, once and for all, not just to marry Phil. But to accept an enormous responsibility, a responsibility you would pass on to your children and they would pass on to theirs.

Children… that was another thing they would have to figure out.

 _One thing at a time, Phil. One thing at a time,_ said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Martyn.

First, Phil had to ask Dan to marry him and Dan would have to be stupid enough to say yes to all this.

“Maybe I should take back that thing I said about you being chill,” Dan said.

“Huh.” Phil blinked. “What?”

Dan laughed. “You just kind of zoned out there, babe. For like a while.”

Phil tucked his face into Dan’s neck, breathed in his familiar, salty smell, then settled onto his lap. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Thinking.”

“About tomorrow?”

Phil sat up, stiffening. “Tomorrow? Why’d you say tomorrow?” Did Dan know he was planning on proposing tomorrow? Had Maxwell said something? He’d be so pissed if Maxwell had said something.

Dan’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed into slits. “The meeting tomorrow… with the prime minister.”

“Oh, oh right. I forgot about that.”

“You forgot Theresa May? Teach me your ways because I’d love to know how to forget—”

“You’re not going to talk like this tomorrow, are you?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “No, but I’m going to store it all up and when we get home, just blam. I’ll sick Theresa May insults all over you.”

“Sexy,” Phil said with a laugh, though he hoped Dan wouldn’t be thinking of Theresa May by the time they got home. He hoped by the time they got home Dan would have that band of promised silver around his finger and his head would be filled with thoughts of their future together.

As long as Phil could work up the courage to ask him.


End file.
